Snow
by Kadrian
Summary: When K-Unit was sent to rescue the hostage, they ended up losing Alex. Finding him was the easy task, recovering him was harder. [T for language and scenes]
1. Chapter 1

A.N.: This was supposed to be a one-shot, but I just had so many ideas. I'm sorry, but not sorry, but sorry, that I'm not working on my other story. But I promise I'm still updating Bunkhouse while I do this!

Happy (belated) Thanksgiving!

* * *

"If I touch that—"

"Wolf will _kill_ you."

Alex slowly inched forward until he was on the edge of his seat, and with a soft huff, he blew down the card pyramid. _Oopsy_.

Eagle oo-ed from across, but quickly schooled his features in one of serious reprimand when Wolf emerged from the cockpit of the airplane. The first thing the man saw was his crumbled glory laying on the table. The second thing his eyes landed on was Alex's grin. "I left it alone for two minutes!"

Sitting next to the youngest of the five members, Fox had a hard time hiding his own wide grin beneath the newspaper he was fake-reading. "C'mon Wolf, you can't expect Cub to sit still for two _seconds_ , let alone two minutes."

"Don't blame me for having trust issues," grumbled Wolf as he dropped back down on his seat, mildly exasperated at the pile of cards. He pulled out the map from his pocket and spread it out over the cards. "Alright, the plane's landing in half an hour. Are we clear on our objectives?"

"Yessir," bounced back at his rhetorical question.

"We will split up into three teams, and set up two points of surveillance. Snake, you're with me. Fox, with Eagle. Cub, meet up with your informant and do whatever spy thing you were sent to do."

"Copy that."

"First half is recon, rendezvous at 1320 hours, thirty minutes from now, at the staff room of Waterfront hotel. Don't be late. Then we map out our entry points, guards, obstacles, etc.. Second half is the extraction. We go in, get the package, get out. Am I clear?"

"As clear as it can ever be."

"I _certainly_ hope so, Cub." Wolf's eyes turned to Alex in emphasis. "Your informant, you sure he's trustworthy?"

" _She_ ," Alex corrected, frowning ever-so-slightly. "Is trustworthy. We've been at this, for what, three years now? Since when have my informants _ever_ been untrustworthy?"

Okay, maybe ' _ever'_ was a bit strong. Alex horridly winced as Eagle enthusiastically took the opportunity. "September 4th: your informant sold you out for three pounds. That was cheap, by the way—"

"You've brought that up too many times."

"December 25th: your informant—God I can't get his beard out of my head—thought the _Christmas_ decorations were the bombs we were looking for. What was he high on? 'Cuz I need one of those to ever forget all your informant mishaps."

"Okay okay!" Alex held up his hand in surrender. "So maybe there were a few mishaps, but we're still alive."

"Wanna see my surgical scar from the shrapnel?"

At Eagle's antics, Alex rolled his eyes but was luckily saved by Wolf's exasperation. "Whoever she is, just make sure you get the exact room and floor. That's all we need. We definitely don't have time to search every room of that hotel for the package."

Package. Even though Alex understood the reason behind dehumanizing their target, he didn't want to accept it. Their package wasn't a brown parcel with plastic tape over the folds, he was a young boy whose parents were rich enough to get him kidnapped and ransomed.

"Travis Cole, son of the founder of Cole Hotels," said Alex. "The boy who's held hostage, he's claustrophobic. Be careful how you handle him."

"Believe me, I won't give a damn." Wolf snorted. "And you won't either once things go havoc—and it _will_ , as soon as we enter."

Alex understood Wolf's cold indifference more than he wanted to. The team leader was still bitter about last time when Alex had cared too much and Eagle had gotten shot for his trouble. The package stayed the package. When they cared, they got hurt. The hostage didn't know the proper procedure, and trying to accommodate their neediness would only drag all of them down.

But it wasn't Cole's fault for getting kidnapped. They could at least give him the barest comfort when they could afford it.

Alex voiced his thoughts out loud, but before Wolf could blatantly bat it down again, Fox offered a better explanation. "I think what Brownie-Blondie here is saying is that the kidnapped kid reminds him of himself from years ago. And maybe, just maybe, he feels like he can relate to what the kid is facing."

"You know me too well," remarked Alex dryly, trying to pass it off as humor. "Look, Cole's only fourteen. He doesn't know how to deal with it properly, so just ease him out of it as much as you can, alright?"

And once again before Wolf could speak, he was interrupted. This time, by Snake. "Alright. Don't worry, Cub. He'll be safe with us."

"Speaking on Wolf's behalf? What a giant step for mankind," said Eagle from the side.

The plane gently shuddered beneath them, and the seat-belt sign blinked orange. They sat back and buckled in the metals across their torso. The windows were pulled shut to the bottom, their ending was pronounced sharply by the rocky humming as the wheels touched the runway.

Before the plane pulled to a complete stop inside the hangar, K-Unit was already grabbing their gears from the top shelves and the seats. Each of them had donned a casual civilian outfit and, out of habit, a pair of shades was pulled over Fox's eyes. They could easily pass as tourists, as they intended to.

Alex, on the other hand, was dressed smartly in a suit to better disguise himself as a server for the hotel. The blue tie would let him walk in without being mistaken as a server, but without the blue tie and the black coat, no one would be able to distinguish him from the other workers.

The plane to the door hissed open, and Alex was the first one out, being the only one with few equipments.

"You sure you want to go alone?" Fox asked as he caught up, reaching over to straighten a crease on Alex's collar. "You'd potentially in the same building as the captors."

"Relax, Ben. I got this." He rolled his eyes in response. "You guys just do your job right, and everything will be okay. You want anything though? I heard the hotel has great free souvenirs."

"Nah. Just go in, talk to the girl, and get out. No fuzz."

Alex had expected some light-hearted comment about his souvenir remark, but Fox failed to meet his expectation. The ex-agent was tense, tenser than usual, and it was making Alex apprehensive as well.

"Something wrong, padawan?" asked Alex finally, when they were out of earshot. Maybe some secrecy was what Fox needed. "Having bad feelings?"

Fox rolled his eyes. "I'm not Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Then what is it?" Even if Fox hadn't answered his question, Alex was glad the man was at least attempting to up his mood. "If it might endanger the mission, we need to let Wolf know."

"No, it's not that. I just…" Fox sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I had a fight with Stace before we left. Nothing big, but I wish we hadn't fought at all."

Stacie, or Stace as K-Unit and her friends call her, was Fox's fiance. The wedding was in a few weeks, and both of them were nervous. As they should be. Being legally bound to another person was a commitment, after all. The apprehensive tension seemed to have evolved into petty arguments of late.

"I'm sure she's thinking the same. She loves you, you love her, there's nothing a quick apology won't heal."

"You're right."

"Aren't I always?" remarked Alex.

His phone cut off whatever sharp retort Fox was about to shoot back, and when he took it out, he recognized the caller ID instantly. Alex waved Fox away, and the soldier walked off to join Eagle and the rest of K-Unit in their own preparation, leaving Alex to his own.

"Hey Beck, wassup?"

"When are you getting here?"

"You're _my_ informant. You show up early, I show up late. That's how it works." Alex rolled his eyes mockingly. He knew Beck could hear the eye-roll in his voice as clear as day. "You watching their door?"

"Give me some credit, Lexy—"

"It's _Alex_ , not _Lexy_ —"

"I've been scrubbing the elevator in front of their room for the past hour. They opened the door once, but that's it. I saw some camera set-ups though, think they're making another video?"

"Might be," Alex shrugged. "The deadline for the drop is only six hours away. Well, gimme ten. I'll be there soon. Keep scrubbing the elevator."

"Don't tell me what to do," Beck ended the call before Alex could. He huffed and stowed it back in his pockets. From the table where K-Unit was distributing the comm links and hidden weapons, Wolf waved him over as soon as he saw Alex was open.

A gun was offered his way that he strapped to the waistband beneath his jacket. Alex shook his head subtlety in amusement—when he was fourteen, the only things that MI6 was willing to offer him were little gadgets that Smithers brilliant designed but now, guns came naturally. K-Unit wouldn't accept a no on their offer of the firearm.

You just don't take yo-yos to a gunfight, especially to a gunfight with SAS on your team. They would shoot at just about anything that got in their way. Kind of dangerous when they were armed with guns and him only a yo-yo.

"Keep comms on at all time," Fox passed each one of them a flesh-color earpiece small enough to not be detected. "Whatever you say will be heard, so no picking up girls on duty. We also don't have a lot of time, let's use it wisely."

"Gotcha," Alex inserted his and grabbed the rental car key on the table. "I'm heading off first, meet you guys in thirty."

The rest of K-Unit began shifting as well. Eagle offered him a quick clap on the back and a quiet 'good luck' when he walked by, both that he returned. The gray rental was the first vehicle to pull out of the hangar with Alex behind the wheels, seconds later, it was on the road to Waterfront Hotel.

Alex reached over to turn on the radio, and music blasted through the speaker. Oops, he thought, just before Wolf and the others cursed him through the earpiece. An eye on the road, a hand on the wheel, and the other flipping through the channels.

"Oh for goodness's sake, can you listen to classical at some other time?" As expected of Wolf.

"Sorry"—not sorry—"just nerves."

"You better school those nerves of yours in then."

"Roger that," replied Alex dryly.

He pulled to a stop in the parking lot minutes later with time to spare, but Beck was already milling around the lobby with her cart full of cleaning supplies. Alex met her only months ago on a recon mission, and earlier yesterday he found out that she worked in the same hotel that the men holding Cole hostage was in. She wasn't keen on participating in the stunt, but she had begrudgingly agreed after Alex offered a job as the secretary for Royal and General.

 _Ha_ , not that he had the power to even offer her a job at HQ, but Mrs. Jones wouldn't say a word against it since the information Beck had supplied them had been crucial and important. She might not be exactly the inside man (or woman) they preferred, but she was about as inconspicuous as they could get.

"What took you so long?" said Beck as he neared.

"Why aren't you watching the door?" Alex frowned.

Beck huffed in mock annoyance. "Relax, Lexy. Those men, they came out of the room and headed straight for the elevator. I was polishing the granite then, and I even offered them a smile. I don't think it was a good idea to still be there when they come back."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay. Whatever. Anyway, I didn't just leave my post and scurried out like you think I did. The elevator went to lobby, and I followed them. They headed into the diner, last I saw."

"Okay, thanks Beck." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a few notes and a piece of paper. "Here, this is the address to the airport hangar. You get a cab, and go there and wait for us. Alright?"

"That's it?"

"That's it. You now have a new job." He grinned at her with ease he didn't feel. "Now go. When you get there, tell them Alex sent you. They'll give you a nice window seat. I'll be back in a few hours, as soon as we get the hostage."

Hesitantly, she took the money and the paper and stuffed them in her pocket. "Okay, I will get changed."

A tension Alex didn't know exist uncoiled itself from his chest, and he breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled off her gloves and set it on the trolley. She wasn't suitable for his line of work, they both knew. If she had made eye contact with the men, their paranoia would definitely go up a notch if they were to see her near their proximity again.

"The room the boy's held in," Beck reminded him. "Fifth floor, room 504. It's to your right, the second room—"

He felt it before he saw it. Gun. Ten o'clock. Pointing straight at them.

Alex yelled, "get down!" just as a single shot rung out in the vast lobby—but bullets traveled faster than sound, and he heard it ricochet off the wall behind them just as he tackled Beck onto the ground.

Three men marched toward them, one with a beanie, one with glasses, and the other bald like a cartoon character. Only two of them had a gun, and both were quickly raised again in their direction.

The screaming of the rushing civilians didn't help.

"Cub?"

"Yeah, a bit busy here, Wolf." Alex shot back through the comms as he quickly rolled off Beck, and pushed her behind the nearest pillar. "Beck, get out of here!"

Praying that it would work, Alex flipped the metal platter on the cart Beck had rolled to the lobby into his hands, and tried to deflect the immediate stream. It lasted only two bullets before the hole in the thin metal was large enough to fit a six pence. Alex abandoned it just as quick, and dove behind the cart as a stray bullet blew out the light behind him.

His gun came fast to his hands, and he clicked the safety off. "Hey guys? Now would be a great time to show up and provide some much needed soldier supports."

"We are on our way," confirmed Wolf. "What went wrong?"

"For starters," Alex grunted as he rolled over to the pillow, and pressed his back against it. "Those captors? There's at least three of them and they're all trying to shoot my head off at the moment. Beck must have got them paranoid."

"Beck?"

"My informant—that's _not_ important! Beck said the boy's upstairs. Fifth floor, room 504. Advise on situation?" Alex peeked over the corner and got off two shots before half a dozen or so chipped at the pillow and the wall directly behind.

"Eagle and I are half a block away by foot. Just got our weapons. We won't get there before the police do." Fox's voice crackled over the comms. "I hate to ask you to do this, but if you can get free, find the package."

"By myself?" Two more shots. One incoming nearly took his arm off. They weren't moving toward him anymore, but where the damn bloody hell were they? Were they closing in? "I doubt they'd leave their hostage without guard in the room upstairs, so there must be at least one upstairs."

"The police are coming. They'll blow our ops sky high," Wolf agreed with Fox grimly. "We cannot let them escape with the boy. If they do, the package might not live."

"Alright, roger that." With a huff, Alex checked his ammo. He wasn't sure how many he had fired. The magazine slid open, and he slid it back in just as quick. Nine more rounds. Damn. Nine plus the spare he always carried would equal twenty-six more bullets.

Twenty-six, and three or more targets. Easy-peasy, piece of cake. _Right_.

The lobby was suddenly quiet. No more gunshots. No more screaming. Alex tensed, and debated whether or not he should peek around the corner. His eyes slid to the right, and landed on Beck.

Who was still crouching behind the pillar from where he had tackled her with an expression of absolute terror on her face.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" he hissed.

"I…" Her voice carried amazingly well over the silence. "I froze."

Alex thanked her for her honesty sardonically before shaking his head and readying his pistol. "I'll cover for you. Get out. Run like hell. Go to the hangar."

She mutely nodded from the other side. Alex spared a quick peek, and located the three men behind the receptionist desk. Two of them were slowly making their way around, hoping to ambush him. The other was staying back, waiting for the chance to pick him off as soon as he poked his head around.

Great planning.

"On three?"

She nodded again. Alex reached down to pull out the gun strapped to his leg beneath the black pants. God, he hated suits. He weighed both guns in either hand, and gave Beck a quick nod.

One, here goes nothing, three.

He fully exposed himself from behind the pillar, his black in stark contrast to the golden white wall behind him. Larger target, easier to shoot than small Beck scurrying to the door. Locating the two making their way forward, Alex's shots sent them seeking cover immediately. He fired at the man behind the receptionist.

Missed.

To the sides. Missed.

Damn his accuracy. Nine shots fired. Five more on the left gun, Fifteen on the right.

Alex let his peripheral stray toward Beck's figure. A shot flew her way, but thank God it missed. He narrowed his eyes, and returned fire at the men. He was the goddamn target, for heaven's sake. Don't hurt the girl.

Two shots. Quick glances Good. She was almost at the door.

"C'mon Beck. C'mon c'mon, move faster," muttered Alex as he mercilessly eyed the chandelier above them and shot at the hook above. It stayed on, despite his wish, but shuddered dangerously. A glass slid off, smashing onto the floor. What a poor design.

Then Beck was out. The bullet-riddled hotel door swung shut again. Alex ducked back behind the pillar again. One stray bullet clipped across the sleeve of his suit. Well, too bad. Not his suit. Not his money.

Alex extended an arm over the side to fire off a few shots, but it clicked empty. "Oh _shite_."

Loud movements were heard after his curse was transmitted across the deserted lobby. Now they knew he was down one gun. Oops.

"Okay, Snake's got the police postponed. We're just 'round the corner!" Fox updated him quickly. "What's your stats?"

"Alive and breathing," was his immediately response. "But I've got only"—he checked—"ten rounds left. Chuck me a gun when you barge in, will you?"

"Gladly. We'll cover for you. Get up there immediately. Incoming in five."

Fox lied. Before two was hit, Fox and Eagle were through the door. A loud curse from the captors was the best sound he had ever heard that whole entire day so far. Fox found him second later, and the pistol unholstered from his side sailed through the air in a wide arc. Alex caught it, just as the two soldiers began returning fire with their better, and more professional, weapons.

Alex took the stairs three at a time, hoping against hope that the three downstairs didn't have time to inform those upstairs. When he finally reached the fifth floor in record speed, his heart was pounding from more than nerves.

"Be advised, I'm approaching the door now. Saying my prayers, fingers crossed—"

" _Cub_." Well, hello Wolf.

"Bad timing?"

"Very."

"Okay." Despite himself, Alex grinned as he took a few quick breaths. "Approaching now."

Alex respectfully knocked.

If they were to peek through the peephole, they would see what resembled a server. He tried, he did. He had abandoned his tie on the way up and threw away his suit jacket on the stairwells. He hadn't had time to look in a mirror, but hopefully, there were no gunpowder or blood residue on his face.

"Housekeeping!" he called when no one came to answer the door.

That elicited a grunted response. "Don't need it. Go away."

 _Rude_. "I'm sorry sir, but I need to change the electrical charger by the beside. We experienced an outage downstairs only minutes ago, and one of the lines that it's connected to passes through yours. I'm afraid that—"

The door abruptly swung open. "Go the bloody hell a—"

Sentence left unfinished, the man was knocked out with a whack across his face by the pistol. Ouch. He fell backward at the blunt force and was out like a light. Taking caution to carefully stepped over his body, Alex inched forward into the room with his gun tucked to his chest in anticipation. It didn't take him long to locate the boy. He was right there, in the middle of the room. Gagged, limbs uncomfortably bounded to a wooden chair, but very much alive. The kid's eyes widened when Alex made his presence known.

"Package located," Alex said slowly to the comms. Then he turned to the boy. "I'm here to take you home."

The boy frantically struggled against his bounds at what Alex thought was excitement. He snorted in amusement and made his way nearer. "That's the first time anybody's _that_ excited to—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence before something hard slammed against the back of his head. Alex, caught surprised, tried to twist but his brain wouldn't let him. It flashed to dark.

* * *

Wolf joined them only moments later. Three against three. It was easy and quick. They killed two before the third one came to his sense and surrendered. His pistol was chucked over the receptionist desk, and Eagle passed it to Fox who holster it in the spare holster vacated by Alex.

Eagle moved to grimly inspect the two men lying in their own pool of blood. Each of them had a similar bullet wound: single entrance to the head. His handiwork.

Fox forced the last man onto the ground, and cuffed him to the heavy cart lying discarded on the ground next to them. "Lobby is secured. Snake, you can start letting the police through now."

"Roger that."

"Cub, this is Fox. What's your situation?"

Static silence. That's weird. Fox frowned, and tried again. "Cub? Come in."

The three of them stood in a scattered circle in the lobby, and waited with baited breath for a response. Fox blamed the silence on Alex's need for stealth. Must have rendered the kid unable to reply back.

"Anytime now, Blondie-boy. Make some sound if you can't speak."

Silence. The man on the floor grunted intrusively. Wolf gave him a swift jab to the ribs with his boots that successfully shut him up.

Fox exchanged a glance with Eagle, then with Wolf.

"Cub, do you copy?" Wolf tried, his eyes casting upward as if he could see past the ceiling.

That awful silence again, shattered only by the police siren drawing nearer.

Making a decision, Fox turned to Wolf and jerked his head upstairs. "Go find Cub. Eagle and I will deal with the police when they come."

Wolf didn't need to be told twice, nor did he question being ordered by Fox, before he was running up the stairs and disappearing over the bend in a hurry. None of them liked the queasy feeling at the pit of their stomach nor the uncomfortable thoughts floating around their head like black crows.

Alex not responding might meant he was overpowered. Unconscious. Or dead. Jaws clenched, Fox subtly shook his head and rid it of the thoughts. He would kill anybody who hurt Alex, and if this was Alex's attempt at a joke, he swore he would kill that kid too.

Okay, maybe not _kill_.

The sound of an engine pulling up, but without sirens, interrupted his thoughts. Turning to find Snake hopping out of the vehicle, Fox waved him inside and pointed toward the man chained to the cart. "Get him into the vehicle."

"We don't take captives."

"The head of Cole hotel might want to have a talk with the man who kidnapped his son." Fox couldn't care less, as he threw the keys to the cuffs to Snake.

Snake nodded, and Eagle lent him a hand in hauling the man up right after re-cuffing his wrists together. Eagle grabbed the man by a fistful of his shirt, and began frogmarching in to the car waiting outside. The medic, however, turned to Fox. "Where's Wolf? Cub? The package?"

Fox pointed upstairs, hand clenching and unclenching at the handle of his rifle. "Package's last said upstairs, on fifth floor. Cub went to retrieve it, but went unresponsive. Wolf's heading up now." He turned to his comms. "Wolf?"

"Room's trashed, but empty. Got a chair, but rope's been cut." The immediately hesitance that followed had the three soldiers in the lobby apprehensive.

"What is it?"

"Fox, you gave Cub a pistol, right?"

 _Shit_. "I did. Don't tell me…"

"I found it, and his earpiece, beside the lamp." Wolf paused again. "I think Cub was caught unprepared. Blunt force to the head. There's blood on the lamp."

"Oh God."

"They took Cub?" Snake exclaimed.

"Looks like it."

"Are you sure? Did you check all the rooms?"

"There's only one room, Fox. The bathroom's clear too. Nothing. No trace of them."

Fox didn't realize he was pacing before Snake settled a hand harshly on his shoulder to ground his thoughts back to reality. He took a quick breath, and asked. "Are there any shell casings? Any shots fired?"

They took Alex, that had to mean he was alive.

A pause as Wolf surveyed the room again. "None that I can see. They're gone. I'm coming down now. We need to work this from a new direction. Fox?"

"What."

"We will find them."

It's not 'them' that Fox wanted to find at the moment. It was 'him'.

"I know." Fox glanced at the man in the vehicle bitterly. He would trade that man's life any day for Alex's. "And we have someone we can ask."

His bristling remark was met with silence. They understood him, and their thoughts were in unison. The sirens outside drew louder, and they quickly shouldered their rifles. As the first batch of officers spilled into the lobby, guns out for a confrontation they missed, Fox slipped aside to let the rest of K-Unit deal with them.

Fox located Alex's second gun lying on the ground. It was near the pillar Alex had hid behind earlier. He pulled out the magazine. Yeah. It was empty. Fox set it dangling by his side before pushing his way past the officers. MI6 would handle the police easily. That was apparently Wolf's thought as well, for he handed a phone over the the man in command. Moments later, the four of them, plus an unwanted five, was speeding away to the hangar.

Wolf was driving, Fox shotgun, and Snake and Eagle sandwiching the man in the back. The mood in the car was heavy, and every bump they met on the road was frustrating Fox more and more by the moment.

Six years ago, when they first met the fourteen-year-old spy at the training camp, none of them had really thought the kid was serious. MI6 and a teenage spy? Sounded more like a book. Might make a good plot, but it wasn't reality. Then Wolf saw him skiing down a mountain like a maniac, carted off to a hospital, returned to take down an evil force, and he believed the truth. Months later saw Fox fighting alongside the kid to prevent a bomb from killing the world's leaders.

If that didn't convince them, they didn't know what else would.

They could deal with Alex half-dead in a hospital bed (no, they couldn't), they could deal with Alex taking stupid risks on a mission (not really), but they couldn't deal with Alex being captured. Normal capture, sure, tentatively. But this time, Alex was taken without cause.

Why didn't they leave Alex? Knock him out? Put a bullet through him (Fox make sure they die the most painful death if he were to find Alex lying dead)? The uncertainties worried all of them.

The men had a hostage already, the rich son, why did they need Alex? To make a point? What goddamn point?

Fox was the first to hop out of the car, slammed the passenger door shut, and as soon as Snake vacated his seat, hauled the captive harshly by his collar out of the car. " _Walk_."

Wolf waved over two guards guarding the plane. Watch over the captives, he ordered them as he dragged Fox to the table, warning him that any rash actions would help neither him nor Alex. Maps and tiny flags and figures littered on the table; their plan of attack was still unmade and in a scramble but their mission was already blown.

They were all unprepared when a girl bounced out of the airplane, and even before her feet touched the ground, she was running toward them. "Where's Alex?"

"Who're you?"

"Beck. I'm the informant. Where's Lexy?" She looked worried. She sounded panicking. She was beyond herself.

Snake settled a calming hand on her shoulder, and gave her a seat beside the table. She was as deep in this as any of them were. "Beck, take a breath."

She did. "Where's Lexy?"

"Lexy?"

She made a noise of dismissal. "Alex."

"He got taken." Blunt, and to the point.

"What?"

"He was knocked out, from what we gathered. We didn't find him anywhere upstairs, so he must've been taken."

"Let's retrace our steps. What went wrong?" Wolf, always the leader, demanded unflinchingly. They all wanted to get Alex back as soon as possible.

"Well, every bloody thing for starters—"

" _Fox."_

"Cub walked in," it was Eagle who took the rein. "We all heard him talk with Beck. Then those men saw them, and opened fire. Fox and I came in five mikes later, Alex went up, we stayed."

"He sounded so unsure when I asked him to go up." Fox ran a hand through his hair. Distress clear in his every movement. "I should've gone up with him. Shouldn't have sent him alone for starters."

"I should've stayed," voiced Beck quietly. "I shouldn't have run."

"Yeah, what good would you have done? No offense."

She stayed quiet. Wolf tapped the map quietly. "Both Cub and the kid were taken. It's not a solo job. There's at least two men upstairs when Alex entered." He glanced at Fox. "Get a look at the security footage. Find out which way they went."

"On it."

"Sir!" They all glanced up as one of the MI6 liaisons walked toward them, a phone in hand. "Mrs. Jones want to speak with you."

Wolf asked as he took it from her hand. "You told her about Cub?"

"Cub?"

"Agent Rider."

"I told her about the mission not gone to plan."

A sudden surge of fury stole over Fox. Wolf harshly threw the phone on the table between K-Unit and the girl, and put it on speaker. "Mrs. Jones."

"I heard you lost my agent."

What was that supposed to mean? Lost her agent? They didn't _lose_ him. He was taken. She made it sound as if Alex was taking a bloody stroll in a park and got lost in some forest.

"We will get him back, ma'am." Wolf leaned over the table with his hands on the edge, a look of frustration fleetingly rushed through his eyes.

"And the package?"

"We didn't get to him, ma'am. But we're dealing with it now."

"I don't need false reassurance, soldier. I need a plan. What's your next move?"

Find the men. Get Alex. Kill them. As simple as that. "We're working on that."

"Well, work faster because Mister Cole wants his son in a blanket not a casket."

The men and the girl around the table were an angry mess as the dial tone hit them head on. Wolf schooled them in, snapping a finger at the liaison to take the phone away. She scurried over, took it, and tried her best to appear unflinching. Really didn't do a good job.

"Fox," a finger snapped his way. "Security footage."

"Right." Fox returned to his duty, heading off to get the computer in his backpack. Smithers would connect him easily to any camera he wanted, and possibly more if he received the news that his 'boy' was taken.

Smithers still thought of Alex as a kid. He still tried to make fancy gadgets like laser pens and exploding erasers for the agent, even though Alex's twentieth birthday was just around the corner. Two weeks after Stacey and his wedding would be the kid's birthday.

Nobody told Alex about the surprise party they were planning. Oh hell, the kid definitely guessed they'd do something, but he didn't know what.

They just have to get Alex back first, and kill some bad guys while they were at it.

"Hey Smithers."

His tone had been light, but the man caught on immediately. "Bad things happened, Ben? How can I help?"

"I need the last three hours security footage from the Waterfront Hotel. You know which one?"

"Oh you wounded me. I'll track your location, won't take me… _there_ we go. I have you on my map. Now lemme get the hotel…ha, easy-peasy. I've connected your laptop to the center. Just click on the pop-up. You've complete access now. If they have it, you might even find footage from 1980."

Fox snorted as he set his phone down, put it on speaker, and clicked on the screen. A few more clicks located the time stamp he needed. "Thanks Smithers."

"No sweat, Ben." Then the tech genius turned serious. "Mrs. Jones sounded awfully worried. What happened?"

"Smithers..."

"If it's classified, I won't search. But you know me: you don't tell me, I'm still gonna find out."

"Alex got taken," blurted Fox.

A short brisk silence, then, "Alex?"

"Yeah. It was my fault, I didn't—"

"Ben, as much as I _hate_ the idea of the boy getting hurt," Smithers was quick to stop him. "I know it's not your fault. You love him like a brother. Don't blame yourself, 'kay? Just get him back, safe and sound. That's all I ask."

"Promise."

"You do that. Keep me updated?"

"'Course."

Fox let the man hang up on him before he spun the computer closer to him, and began locating precisely the time he wanted. 1300. Something around that. Got it. Fifth floor corridor. North wing, right by the elevator. Alright there.

Beck was there. Scrubbing the elevator. Fox fast-forwarded by a few minutes, almost missing the moment Alex made himself known by the staircase. The kid took a few deep breaths, his tie and jacket already abandoned, and ready to pose as a server.

"Always the gentler approach," Fox snorted.

The door opened after a few moments of drone-out coaxing, but before more words could be exchanged, Alex brought the butt of his pistol down on the man's head. He crumpled quickly and without much resistance. The kid stepped over the man, and disappeared off-frame.

Fox muttered absently under his breath as he waited. Shadows flickered and cast into the hallway from the room. Reaching for the control, Fox fast-forwarded again until a second man appeared, and harshly woke the unconscious man on the floor. They went back inside.

Before long, the second man was out carrying Alex over his shoulder, and the first was dragging the hostage out. Fox zoomed in the best he could, right before the pixels could steal away the bigger picture. Alex looked fine—as fine as he could be in that situation. A dark trail covered the side of his face, and he hung limply atop the captor.

He definitely lost blood with that head wound, but hopefully not much.

They took the long route to the west wing, Fox had to switch cameras to follow them, and exit through the kitchen backdoor. Their movements were quick and precise, easily navigated through the mazes.

Last camera outside the hotel. They left through a beige sedan but its plate was too far away to be recognized.

"Found it?" Wolf appeared by his shoulder, glancing at the screen.

Fox nodded and rewound the tape back to the car just before it pulled out of frame. "That's the car they left in."

"Plate?"

"Too far, can't see."

Wolf made a dismissive noise. "What about the tech guy? Smith-whatshisname? Can he do it?"

"Smithers?"

"Yeah. Ask him to work on it."

Fox nodded. "On it."

He gave the MI6 specialist the details, and Smithers promised he would get back as soon as possible. Follow them with street cams, the man told him. Bit blurry, but he could piece the plate together with more angles.

On the other end of the hangar where Snake, Eagle, and the girl were pouring over the map again. Not focusing on the map itself, but rather having their own debate on the best approach. An agreement was reached, and Eagle came walking to them.

"Didn't Cub leave with a rental car?"

Fox nodded. "Should still be out in the street. We'll get someone to tow it later."

"Does he still have the keys?" Eagle questioned then explained. "Both the car and the key comes with a GPS tracker. The rental company made the new modification last year. If Cub still has the key, we can track him through that."

"They got an app or something for that?"

Eagle grabbed the computer and inputted a link into the engine. The page spewed out a sub page to the rental company, asking for the car plate number and confirmation ID.

"What the fuck is the confirmation ID?"

"Probably order number or something."

They exchanged a glance. "Didn't MI6 get us the car?"

"Okay, I'll get Smithers."

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

When Alex woke, he knew it was in deep trouble. His wrists were bounded, his head was pounding, his earpiece was missing, and a camera was in his face. He barred his teeth and tried a quick grin.

"You police?" Someone asked from behind him. They appeared in his field of vision seconds later and squatted down to accommodate his seated height. How nice of them.

"Tourist, actually."

A pistol whipped across his face so hard that he felt as if his jaw had cracked in thirds. His head snapped to the side, and it took him a few seconds to readjust. "That'd be the last time, kid. Are you police?"

"No."

Alex waited with baited breath for another whip. It didn't come. Instead, the man pulled up another chair, and sat down in front of him. "Alright, two can play the game—no, look at me—I'm not gonna kill you. Not gonna torture you either. You don't have anything I want, and I don't know if I even want you alive."

"If you want me dead, do I get to choose how?"

"Well," the man actually sounded like he was considering his options. "I got a gun. You can play Russian Roulette by yourself. Don't think that's good for the heart, kid. You're just waiting for that bullet, but every time it clicks empty, your heart jumps."

"Never played it before. Don't know that feeling."

"You know, we just want that old man to suffer. Let him watch his kid suffer. It's not the money we want. Sick bastards like him deserve much more than what we'll put him through."

"You don't have to justify your action to me." Actually, Alex did kind of want to hear the story. Not that he was going to tell the man. "Just kill me, if that's what you want."

"Listen, will you? When we want to kill you, you'd be out like a light."

"The anticipation alone is killing me."

"Good, keeps you on your toe." The man nodded at his partner a few pace behind Alex. The sound of wood scraping against asphalt traveled across the room until it was close enough for muffled cries to be heard.

Dammit. The hostage.

Cole was wide-eyed as he was plopped down next to Alex. Then he calmed just slightly when they made eye-contact. Alex tried to reassure him that it was going to be all right, but, with the blood still caking his face and his rapidly-beating heart trying to force itself to the rhythm of Marconi's Weightless, he wasn't sure his reassurance was all that reassuring.

"Well, my name's Jack. My friend behind you's Horace." The man tapped his foot. "What should I call you?"

"Why?"

Jack reached over and readjusted the lens on the camera as if he were a professional photographer. "So our audience can get to know you better. Pick a name, choose anything."

"Cub's fine."

"Cub. Alright. Travis, meet Cub. Cub, this is Travis."

The man behind them, Horace, removed the gag from the boy's mouth, and turned their chair until they were facing each other at a slight angle. "Hey, you alright?"

The boy huffed. "Never better. You?"

Despite himself, Alex grinned. "Brilliant."

Jack got up and left the small room through the only door. The door screeched in protest. Old hinges, maybe. Rusted. He caught a quick glimpse of more darkness before the door was shut. Corridor? Basement? They must be inside a building or some sort. With Horace watching over them in the back, neither resorted to more conversation beyond the quick eye-contacts.

Absently, Alex hoped K-Unit had dealt with the gunmen back in the hotel. They probably did.

Jack returned moment later with a revolver in his hand. He kicked the door gently shut as soon as he entered. "Good talk?"

"Definitely." Alex grunted in reply, eyeing the gun gingerly.

"Great," the man said. With a quick jerk of his head in their direction, Jack ordered Horace to untie their hands, but not their feet. Alex took the time to rub the burns on his wrist from the harsh texture of the ropes—Travis did the same. The wince on the kid's face and the slight hiss didn't go unnoticed.

Despite knowing better than to expect the kid to be like him, Alex still frowned. Better suck it up. They couldn't afford to be weak.

"Water?" offered Jack, holding a plastic water bottle.

"No," Alex and Travis said at the same time. Then he paused. "I'd take some only if you waterfall a bit first."

"Relax, I didn't poison it." Shrugging, the man twisted open the plastic lid, and followed their demands. He swallowed it, wiped his mouth with the back of his hands, and held it out to Travis. "There. I'm alive."

Alex took it before Travis could, and did his own quick test. Water sloshed in his mouth and he swallowed it quickly before he could choke. There was a long moment of silence as the other three in the room waited for a reaction.

Still eyeing Jack skeptically, he passed the water to Travis with a nod. Probably okay to drink, as long as the poison wasn't a slow one.

Travis took a long greedy swig, water dribbling off the side of his chin. He wiped it off with the back of his hand and set the unfinished bottle on the floor. Alex's paranoia was forcing him to keep a careful eye on the kid, waiting for him to drop dead foaming at the mouth anytime soon.

He didn't, to his paranoia's disappointment.

"Now," Jack spun the revolver lazily in his hand and presented it handle-first to the two of them. "One of you, take it."

Neither made a move. Travis shirked back even further, his eyes skittering to Alex's for help. He shook his head subtly. The man needed Travis alive. He wouldn't shoot him if they take no action. Don't give them a reason to either.

The gun wouldn't do Alex any good at the moment either. Horace was directly behind, Jack in front, and his feet was bound with no room to fidget. If he were to try to get up, he would only fall straight back into the chair or onto the ground face-first. If only he could manage to overpower Jack. Horace was the muscle, Jack was the brain. Kill the brain and the muscle had no power.

"Don't worry, there's no bullet in the chamber. I made sure. Now _take it_ before I blow one of your kneecaps out."

Travis was tempted—but Alex was faster. He snatched it out of the man's hand just as the boy cautiously inched forward. Even though Alex's heart was pounding with apprehension and anticipation of the worst, he preferred that Travis be left out of it as much as possible.

"Good boy." Jack grinned, reached into his pocket and pulled out a single bullet. "Now, I trust that you know how to fit this into the chamber? Just pop it out, put it in, roll it. Try not to shoot me, alright? You shoot me, Horace kills Travis. You shoot Horace, I kill Travis. You've got only one bullet. Can't kill both of us."

Alex gingerly took the bullet, popped it in, and spun it as instructed. The wheels clicked and spun like a wheel of fortune, before it heavily fell into place. Click. Loaded. One spot.

"Now, point it at the boy."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"No."

The man sighed patiently, hands reaching for his own pistol strapped to the waistband of his jeans. Safety pulled. Click. He could almost hear the sound of the bullet sliding into place just waiting for blood. Jack stood up and stepped forward until the cold metal barrel was kissing Alex's forehead. He didn't let his heart's erratic seizure show on his face, but he was sure that the man could feel the deep tremors traveling from his skin to the gun to his hand.

"Do it."

"Don't goad me."

Alex almost let out a small sigh in relief when the man pulled his gun away, only to draw in a fuller harsher breath when the hammer pulled back and—Bang. No suppressor. The sound was deafening. The sound of his bone cracking was masked.

The bullet stabbed into his thigh. Nerves screamed, and he doubled over. Blood was seeping out at an alarming rate. His hands rushed to the wound, dark red coating the thin fabric. He ripped away the lower leg of the pant, and—goddammit—the crimson spilled erratically with each movement.

He tied it. Made a butterfly knot. Sat up. "You bastard."

"Impressive."

"He needs a doctor!" Travis tried. "He's gonna bleed out."

"If he tie that butterfly tighter," Jack shrugged. "He might end up losing the leg too. Now, point the gun at the boy. Don't make me shoot you again."

Alex said, "N—"

"Just do it," Travis cut him off.

"There's no way you'll let me shoot him," argued Alex to Jack, ignoring Travis's words. "You need the boy alive. "

"Or do I?" Jack sat back down. "Point the gun at the boy. Pull the trigger. If he's still alive, I let you have twenty minutes to yourself."

"Sweet deal, but I'll pass."

"If he's dead, I'll let you go."

"Cherry on top, but no thank you."

Jack hummed as if he had expected it. "What about you, Travis? What if I offer you the gun? If he's dead, I'll let you go. That's what you want, right?"

"Hard pass." Travis said through clenched teeth, giving Alex a quick glance when Alex sighed out loud. It wasn't as if Alex wanted to die, but Travis was his mission. He'd rather the kid take the gun and shoot the hell out of Alex. When he agreed to MI6's job offer, he had basically signed his death warrant. He could die any day. On the other hand, that kid was important to _a lot_ of people.

And this wasn't such a bad way to go out.

"You sure?" pressed Jack. "And even if I do this?"

This time, Alex _felt_ the bullet. They heard it too. A sickening of his ribcage as the bullet shattered through. It exited through the back, the impact and close proximity sending him crashing onto the floor. He couldn't close his eyes.

His chair toppled backward, skidded to a stop. The breath was knocked out of him.

"No!"

He saw Horace above him. His chair was hauled up again, and this time, his body slumped forward. Funnily, he felt as if he was drooling, but he couldn't stop it. He spit out the iron in his mouth, hearing the satisfying splat on the floor. But even the smallest suck-and-spit movement drew more blood into his mouth.

Punctured a lung. Shit.

" _Now_ will you shoot him? I'll even let you fire six times straight."

The gun Alex had held in his hand moments ago was picked up from where he had fell. He didn't realize he had dropped it until Jack was pushing it into Travis's hand—"take it", he said—like an old man giving the kid a piece of candy.

He choked. Made a horrible half-choke-half-chuckle when Jack looked at him. Alex knew he probably didn't look like Snow White in front of her mirror, but he could be a maniac when he was delusional from blood-lost. Eagle had told him just how much gibberish he talked when he was captured last time.

Taunts. Humor. That's _bliss_. Too bad there's a kid at stake this time. Blood was clouting his head, and he gave himself a mental shakedown. Alex didn't need a doctor to know that if he didn't get to a hospital soon—hurt to breath—he'd be buried sometime later this week.

"What's so funny?"

"Just thinking about"—everything breath hurt like hell—"my gravestone."

Blood in mouth. Head pounding. Ears ringing like Christmas carols. He missed the reply. Instead, Alex focused on his wounds; not that they needed—breath hitched—anymore focusing on. One clean through. The other embedded in his leg. Probably stuck. Bubbles in the blood he was coughing out.

The kid might actually have PTSD after seeing this, if not already. Alex turned his head away.

"Now will you shoot him? Put him out of his misery?"

This time, Travis's hand trembled in Alex's peripheral vision. Reminded the spy—he coughed—of his first time shooting somebody dead. Julius Grief. Sort of like shooting himself dead. Wonder if Travis was thinking the same thing? Probably not. The kid—blood splattered onto the ground—was too young. He didn't have Ian as a guardian growing up. He didn't have any ties with espionage.

"If I'm dead," Alex offered. "He goes free."

"That's the deal."

"Doesn't matter how I die?"

Jack paused. Then he laughed as if somehow that was funny. It _was_ , now that Alex thought about it. He laughed along, even though it hurt like hell. Didn't have long anyway. Go out in a bang, maybe. Go out laughing too. Might make it a bit easier—he couldn't feel his leg anymore—for the funeral guy to make him look happy.

"You want to shoot yourself, Cub?"

Alex regretted giving that man his code name. He had thought it was funny. Thought it would be funny. Now he hated it. Only K-Unit—let him sleep—called him Cub. The way Jack said it so negatively brought back bitter—drowning in his own blood—memories.

His head was a mess of unconnected thoughts.

"If I die, he goes free."

This time, he didn't miss the reply. "That works."

Jack tried to pry the gun out of Travis's hands. He couldn't. Alex heard the sound of the pistol against bones and a loud curse. Go Travis, he thought dryly. Then the boy cried out, forcing Alex's eyes to strain open further. They slid to the left. Travis was nursing his face, red blossoming over. The gun was missing from his hand. Missing. Not there.

Not anymore. Warm metal was suddenly pressed into his hand. Residue heat from the kid's hands. Cold sweat, too. He could feel it.

Alex aligned the metal to his temple—thank god the man didn't shoot his arms—and paused.

"Anytime now."

"Please don't, Cub," Travis was pleading. "It's okay. Please don't do it."

Survivor's guilt talking. It wasn't okay. It wasn't going to be okay if he didn't do something about it. Alex shut his eyes and steadied his hands. Can't miss now. It was so close. So close. He'd be damned if he miss from this dist—

Click.

"Lucky you—" Jack.

Click.

"Cub, stop. Don't do it. Don't do it—"

Click.

Thumb drew back. Pulled back. Release. A new slot. His hand hesitated and he trembled. He _trembled_. Alex didn't want to die. He didn't want to. His birthday was in a few weeks, he was actually looking forward to what K-Unit had planned. Too bad he wouldn't be able to see it.

He hoped they hadn't spend too much on it. Somethings could be returned, reimbursed. Some just couldn't.

 _Click_.

His heart was pounding. He could hear the blood rushing in his veins. How, he didn't know. He'd lost so much blood. So much blood that even a vampire wouldn't want him. He chuckled. The iron was slowly becoming a natural taste, funny enough.

Jack was watching him. Standing close. Maybe the blood splatter from the bullet would stain his shirt. Maybe…He breathed out slowly and muttered softly under his breath, his arm sagging.

"What?" Jack leaned in.

Alex ignored Travis's string of 'please Cub don't do it' in the background, and opened one bleary eye. Jack was close. Within arm's reach. He just hoped he still had enough strength. A painkiller would help. Or a med kit. Adrenaline syringe. What else did they use in PUBG? Freakish wrist-wrapping bandages.

Jack. Closer now. With a pained grunt, Alex lifted his hand and whipped the revolver harshly on the side of the man's face. He could feel the last ounce of his adrenaline surging forward with the movement. He didn't waste a single more second to watch Jack crumple to the floor. He angled his body, catching Horace by surprise, and fired.

Click. Dammit. He'd wished this was the one.

Horace lunged toward him. Stupid.

 _Bang_.

Red blossomed on the man's chest, but Horace's momentum kept him going until he sent both of them crashing onto the floor. Alex hit his head. At the same time, the revolver tumbled out of his slackened grip.

He didn't need it anyway. Alex laid there, gasping for air with the man's heavy weight on top of him. He could see the man's eyes. Wide open. Dead. Dead but wide open. And too close. He could see the fish-eye-whites in them, the pit black—his reflection—the thumping red veins, and the shadows from exhaustion.

Alex let his head fall back down, the softest of all breaths he could still manage escaped him.

"Cub!"

Dammit, Travis. Learn to cut your ropes yourself. Alex groaned in refusal.

"Cub!" The kid was closer now. A loud thumping, and a childish curse. Must've tripped over his own feet. Wasn't easy with the chair tied to their feet after all. "Hey Cub, can you hear me?"

"I'm dead, not deaf."

"Good," the kid sighed in relief, and inched closer.

More thumping. Poor chair, he thought. Struggled to breath. Couldn't get air. Felt exposed. Something screeched. Were there vultures? Where's K-Unit? Fox? Wolf? Snake? Hell, he'd take Eagle too.

A loud screech. The door, he thought dimly. The door.

Thump. Shuffles. Loud curses. Could the kid be any louder?

"-elp! Help! He's—"

"-it's okay. Wolf go—"

"God, Alex—"

How did Travis know his name? Goddammit. Did Jack wake up again? There were more voices. Shit, was he hallucinating?

Suddenly, the weight was pulled off his chest, and his leg was extended. Ropes were gone, he realized. Ropes were gone. That meant Travis did something. Thank God, he should've trusted the kid more.

"-it shit shit, he's bleeding out! Snake get over—"

"Cub can you—"

"—his leg. Fucking bastard shot him—"

"Lexy!"

"Get her out of here! Why the hell is she—"

Then, the loudest. "Alex, Alex, look at me. It's Fox. Ben. You're okay. You're safe. I've got you. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

Fox? _Ben_. He wanted to say his name. He ended up choking in his own blood. His lung—breathe. He couldn't—He couldn't breathe. He—breathe. Air. He needed to—he needed to—

"Shit, his lungs—"

"Put pressure—"

"His leg—"

"I _know_ , Wolf! _Goddammit_ I know!" Someone roared. "We need a helo. He doesn't have time—"

"ETA thirty sec—"

Faintly, "-see him! Let me see him!"

"Get that kid out of here!"

"No no no no, Alex stay with me—"

"He's not—"

"—too much blood—"

"—losing him—"

Then blissfully, silence.


	2. Chapter 2

A.N.: This story is actually a sequel to Seek, and You Will Find, but the story is able to be read as a standalone.

* * *

They said he was stable, but they wouldn't let them see him. Bullet wound was a tricky business, they said. They had to watch him, make sure he was really all right. Fox was forced to have to watch Alex through the shaded window with its blinds half-drawn in defense. The doctors were fussing over Alex and ventilator tubes had attached themselves to the figure in the white bed. That meant Alex wasn't breathing on his own, right?

Wolf was still sitting in those hard metal chairs outside, waiting. Watching the clock, tapping his right foot. Snake was somewhere else, getting them something to eat. They have been waiting for news since yesterday early evening, and nobody had moved from their seat until the doctor came out, the bloodied glove tossed in the trashcan behind the door, and told them what the lady must thought was good news.

Critical. But alive.

Eagle wasn't here. He had begrudgingly taken the task of escorting Travis Cole to MI6 headquarters to meet up with his father. There might be tears, but he knew Mrs. Jones with her cold dead heart would shed none. Fox blamed her for Alex's current predicament. It wasn't her fault that Alex was taken, but it was her fault for offering Alex a job.

It was only late last year that Alex had recovered from his ordeal with Sabina's death, the memory loss, Edward, and everything else life had thrown at him. Yet the kid was already on his feet and running like nothing happened because Mrs. Jones had offered him a new mission.

"Coffee," Snake shoved the warm paper cup into Fox's hands and placed a small plastic-wrapped package on top. "Bagel. Eat up, you need it."

The medic did the same for Wolf, refusing to move until the team leader slowly unwrapped the bread and took a bite. Wolf was definitely taking it bad. He was attached to the kid, they all knew. Still, it hurt all of them when Alex got hurt. Fox wished he could send Alex off to some university and tell him to never look back at this life. If only it were that easy.

"It's been hours," Wolf said when Fox sat down next to him, abandoning his position by the window. "Any changes?"

"Bunch of white-coats around him." Fox shook his head. "He's still asleep."

They took a sip almost simultaneously and turned to watch the clock. It ticked with each second, gears turning behind the scene. Fox liked to think that he could actually hear the ticks, but the busy footsteps of the early morning destroyed any possibility of that.

"Wished it hadn't turned out this way," muttered Wolf.

"Me neither."

"Been a few long years."

They settled back against the chair, letting the metal harshly carve out how they should sit, and ate their bagel. It was still early in the morning, and although the nurses were already moving around, it was still relatively quiet in comparison to the streets. Sitting back, Fox strained to hear the monitors beeping in the room behind the walls.

He could hear it when he tried. Until footsteps thundering down the hall, earning a lot of glares from the nurses, interrupted his sense.

"How is he?" Eagle asked, thanking Snake for the bagel and took a large bite out of it. He looked starved. "Stable? Any change? What did I miss?"

"Sit down before you fall over," was Snake's reply. "Cub's fine. They got him stable and patched up, we just have to wait a little longer before we can go in and see him."

Fox and Wolf nodded when Eagle looked at them for confirmation. The sharpshooter visibly relaxed, groaned slightly and continued eating his bagel.

"What 'bout you? How did it go with Jones?"

"Oh, _that_ was a nightmare. The kid's dad was there, and, well, they saw the video."

The video where Alex was asked to shoot the kid, didn't, got shot, and tried to shoot himself to get the kid out alive. Yeah, _that_ video. Good video. Might actually give them all a few long nights of bad dreams.

"The man was absolutely livid that his son was put through that psychological torture," Eagle added. "He sent his most sincere apology to Alex too. Wished him a speedy recovery."

"Yeah, you can tell him that when he wakes up." Fox stood.

"Where are you going?"

"Stretch my leg. Gonna get some fresh air but," he paused. "Lemme know ASAP visitors are allowed?"

"Yeah, sure."

Fox left the corridor, but not the floor. Rounding the corner and ducking into the nearest storage room, he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jacket. He should call Stacie, let her know that they were okay but he would be staying a little longer. He didn't want to do it in front of the rest of K-Unit, it would serve only to embarrass him when they began another argument. They were bound to have one. Admittedly, he hadn't been entirely truthful to Alex when the spy had asked him what was wrong. With Stacie, _everything_ was turning into an argument lately. This wouldn't be any different.

"Ben?"

"Hey Stace," he tried to be cheerful.

"I…," said Stacie. Then she paused, hesitated before she continued. "Snake gave me a call earlier, told me that you guys were back and you were okay. How's Alex? I heard he got hurt?"

Dammit, Snake. "Yeah, he was…he got hurt. But he's gonna be okay. Listen, I'm gonna stay and wait till he wakes up. I don't want to—"

"Ben, it's alright. I understand. I just want to say that, I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday. I just, I was worried."

"I know. Me too." He pressed his forehead against the cold wall.

They waited in silence for either to speak again. Neither did, for a long while, and it was Stacie who finally decided they should end the call. "Lemme know when you're coming home. I saved some food for you if you—"

Now or never. "Hey, Stace?"

"...Yeah?"

"Can you…drop by?" Fox shut his eyes and waited. Say no. _Please_ say yes.

The horrifying silence stretched for a few long seconds. It could have been minutes until wryly, she replied. "Thought you'd never ask. I'll be there in a few."

"Okay," Fox grinned, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief he didn't realize he was holding in. "Love you."

"Love you too."

Then when the light from his phone faded with the dial tone, the room enveloped him in a darkened warmth. He turned and stood there for a long moment, back pressed against the wall and head leaned back. Maybe it was really gonna be okay.

Then his phone rang again. "Ben?"

"Snake?" Fox's soft eyes sharpened in alarm. "Did something happened to A—"

"He's awake," Fox could hear the grin in the man's voice. "Doctors said we can go in now. We're just waiting for you."

"Okay, give me five. I'm coming." He snapped his phone shut and walked out of the room, keeping his gait as even as possible but the relief betrayed him on his face.

Alex was okay. That was enough to warrant some uncharacteristic smiles on his face. The rest of K-Unit was clustered around the kid when Fox walked in, knocking lightly to not startle anyone. Not that he needed to because Snake saw him even before he entered the door.

"Hey," Fox greeted Alex, who looked almost disgruntled at the degree of embarrassment the attention was causing him. "How you feeling?"

Alex downright glared at him. Right, the ventilator.

"Sorry," he said, completely unapologetic. "I forgot."

The kid rolled his eyes tiredly.

"We were filling him in on the mission," Eagle said with energy from Heaven knew where. "Smithers is an amazing dude, I gotta tell you Cub. He's like, techy and good at everything. Anything online, you name it, and he'll find it."

Fox snorted. "Smithers isn't illegal like that."

The ex-spy and the spy exchanged a glance after the words left his mouth. _Yeah_ , that was a lie. Fox grinned, knowing that Alex would be laughing as well if he could. Alex blinked, turning his head slightly as if searching for somebody. Not finding them, he turned to Fox.

"Cole?" Alex shook his head to Fox's confusion, then gave a quick shrug, and nodded as if saying 'sure'. "Yeah, he's fine. Bit clingy, wanted to see you but his dad whisked him away. Anybody else you were hoping to see?"

"Must be Beck," Snake concluded with a quick grin. Oh right, the girl. "She's settling in nicely. Mrs. Jones assigned her as an assistant to Smithers. He said it would help him to be more creative if he had a kid as an assistant."

Alex looked like he wanted to laugh, then he settled against it when Fox spoke up again. "You should go back to sleep. We'll be here when you wake, and Stace will be here as well."

At this, the kid smiled slightly. Wolf and Fox exchanged a glance. They knew Stacie reminded Alex of Jack Starbright, even though Alex didn't outright admit to that. Stacie sort of made Alex the unofficial kid of the group. The first time she met Alex, she asked if he seriously worked for the government because he looked like he should still be in school. Not far from the truth really, Alex _should_ still be in school. Alex just laughed and told her he was almost twenty.

Three weeks ago, Alex called Stacie 'Jack', much to Fox's fiance's confusion. Alex was pretty light-hearted when he apologized and told Stacie that Jack had been his housekeeper. Alex was over the death now, but Jack wasn't something that could be erased. It would still undoubtedly hurt, just not that much anymore. Heartache, sure, but at the end of the day, Alex was bringing up only the happy memories they had.

Stacie found them waiting in the chairs minutes later, and Fox got up to give her a hug. One that she returned. "I'm sorry."

"Alex's okay," Fox told her. Nothing to be sorry for.

"I'm glad." Stacie peered into the closed door, watching the green mountains and valleys drew themselves over and over again on the black slate. Each high matched with a low and each low matched with a high. "He's asleep."

"Yeah, fell asleep just moments before you got here. But I told him we'd be here when he wakes up."

Stacie nodded and left to say hi to the rest of K-Unit. Taking the chance, Snake walked over to join him. "You called her?"

"Yeah." Fox nodded. "Hey man, I—"

"I called her as soon as we returned," Snake cut him off. "Didn't want her to worry."

"It's okay, I was gonna thank you for doing it."

The medic looked surprised. "You were?"

"I am."

Reaching over, Snake clapped him on the shoulder and gave it a quick warm squeeze. "She loves you, man. I'm glad you two got past it. Would really hate to go to a wedding just to watch the bride and groom squabble at each other."

"Nah, we don't squabble."

"Right."

Snake's love life was in a worse turmoil, they all knew, but Snake being the medic, refused to let anyone be the therapist to him. Something about him wanting to do it his own way. His last girlfriend had left him. It wasn't due to any domestic conflicts, but rather his girlfriend didn't want to lose him. Balancing lost and love was a hard thing, after all. Not everyone could do it.

The five of them stayed in the metal chairs for another half an hour before Stacie suggested that they should all go home, and Fox and she would stay to watch over Alex. They needed the sleep, unlike Stacie who was well-rested and Fox who was too stubborn to leave.

"Call us if there's any trouble," Wolf reminded him when they eventually begrudgingly agreed to go get some rest.

Fox nodded. Even if he didn't, Stacie probably would. She knew how important this was to K-Unit, and she hated hiding things from other people when it was important that they knew. Even if it hurt them, really.

Fox wished he was more like her, a bit more unafraid of everything life was throwing at him. Sure, he was seconded for MI6 right after his first year in K-Unit; sure, he could deal with any evil manic wanting to take over the world—but that didn't mean he was equally dauntless in face of personal issues.

"What's going on in that big head of yours?" Stacie asked, leaning her head on his shoulder, and Fox pulled her in. She smelled like soft shampoo. "Alex's gonna be just fine, you know that."

"I know."

"Then what's going on?"

Fox shook his head. "Just, a lot of things going on at once. Having a hard time dealing with them all at the same time."

"Well, tell me 'bout them," Stacie prompted. "I'll cross off a few for you."

He grinned and kissed the top of her head. God he loved her. He rested his chin on the crown, and she let him. "Well, our wedding for starters."

"Scratched, nothing to worry about. Well, except Andy. Gotta keep the sweets table away from him." They both chuckled. That sounded like Eagle all right. "But Scott will do a fairly good job of that. You just have too look presentable and not mess up the vows. Definitely ask James if you can't do a bow tie. He's great at that."

She'd had it all down in her head. K-Unit plus Alex would all be there. Neither of them wanted it too big anyway, so it would just be them, a few more friends, and then the close immediate family. He wished his father was here to see it. The old man would be overjoyed that his son was finally settling down.

"Why don't you catch some sleep?" she suggested. "I'll wake you in a few hours."

"What 'bout you?"

"I'll watch over Alex."

Eventually, he agreed and closed his eyes before drifting off within minutes into a dreamless sleep.

Fox wasn't sure if it really were as dreamless as he thought it was, but he didn't remember any of it when he woke hours later. His neck was protesting from where he had leaned against Stacie, and with a groan, he struggled upright.

"Oh look who's awake." Was that Eagle?

"Go away." Opening his bleary eyes, Fox located the source of the voice and grunted at the close distance. "How long was I…?"

"About four hours. C'mon, man, get up. Get up get up."

"Wha'—why?"

"I'm relieving your shift. Go home. Stace, take him home. He needs sleep. Don't worry, I'll call you as soon as Alex wakes so you don't break your promise."

Fox wasn't sure how he got there, but the next time he really felt a surface was as he tumbled into his bed. A soft groan escaped him. Yeah, he was tired, all right. Stacie pulled the cover over him, whispered some words, and left. It sounded like 'sweet dreams', but Fox wasn't entirely sure.

He was used to the bed in Alex's house where he had stayed for almost the entirety of the past two years, although the bed beneath him was slowly becoming a part of home. Fox felt useless where he was; he was supposed to be watching over Alex at the hospital. He should've watched over the kid better, should have done a lot more, and shouldn't have done a lot of things as well.

Every day there stood the chance of them dying, and the thought of that was never comforting. People would think that, after half a decade of doing this, Fox would have gotten past it. _Nobody_ ever did. Adrenaline might make them forget for brief moments, but it worked just like drugs. It wore off.

Fox supposed he understood why Alex did what he did. It was brave. And dumb. And stupid. And unnecessarily necessary. But something Alex would do in some sort of twisted utilitarianism ideals. The Cole kid was their objective, they knew that, but that didn't make it easier to accept what Alex did.

What was Alex _thinking_? If he were to die, the captors could very well go against their flimsy promise, and Alex would've wasted his life on nothing. _Nothing_ at all. That was the last straw needed to chase away the chance of any sleep, leaving him wide awake and his thoughts firing rapidly. Rapidly, but solidly. Like Russian roulette, always rotating and always moving with uncertainties. Clicking. _Click._ Like clocks too, ticking, the sound of life running out.

Fox tried to shake the image out of his head. The video footage had been grainy, but he didn't need an HD version to see what Alex was thinking, or what he was feeling. Goddammit, he wished he hadn't...He wished he hadn't watched the footage. Might grant him a better peace of mind.

He abandoned sleep altogether and gave Eagle a call. A yawn was the first thing he heard past the ringtone. "Ben?"

"How's Alex? Any change?"

"Nah, still asleep. Something _you_ should be doing as well…Can't sleep?"

"Something like that."

"Don't beat yourself up over crap that ain't your fault, Fox."

"I don't really blame myself for—"

" _Uh-huh_."

"Okay, well, a _little_. But I'm just…I just can't get that tape out of my head."

"Yeah, none of us could. But Cub's alright, so everything's gonna be alright. Think 'bout your wedding, man. Stace in a beautiful white dress, you in a handsome suit. Forcing Snake in a suit that's not his uniform."

They both chuckled and fell into silence. The phone wasn't dead, but Fox almost thought it was. Eagle then said quietly. "Wolf isn't doing too well either. I dropped by earlier before I came to the hospital."

"Yeah, Alex and he were close. Especially after the last few months." Fox paused. "Snake's with him?"

"Mhm. None of us should be alone right now."

"Aren't you by yourself?"

"Hey, I've got Cub. _And_ the nurses. Better than you losers." They both laughed. Again. Even though it really wasn't that funny. But then, anything was fair game at this point because God knew they needed something to cut the fear in the air.

Their fear, however, fortunately, was misplaced. They got Alex off the ventilator two weeks later, and the week after that he was being wheeled around the hospital by Eagle. The kid looked happy to be out of the bed and at least doing something. Wolf even brought him a few stack him origami paper to make cranes out of as a wedding present. A thousand cranes, Wolf suggested, and get a wish granted.

"Wish I can be out of this bed and doing something," Alex grumbled as he creased down the folds of the crane. Probably the tenth one he was doing since earlier that afternoon. "Ben, aren't you supposed to be, like, getting ready for a wedding?"

"It's in two days."

"Exactly. It's in _two_ days." Alex chucked his finished crane in Fox's direction, and it landed almost perfectly in his hands. "Go do something productive and stop watching me fold cranes. My fingers are bleeding."

Fox just humphed. Alex was still weak and couldn't really support himself for long. Definitely couldn't walk, for starters, and he grew tired within hours. He still had trouble breathing, which was why the doctor said they strongly, _very strongly_ , advise that Alex should not, they repeat, _should not_ do any sort of even mildly-strenuous activities.

Stacie suggested that they postpone the wedding by a few weeks, but Alex just frowned and told them Eagle could wheel him around. The sharpshooter seemed to be in love with the wheelchair, which was a plus.

Fox glanced at the kid when Alex's fingers paused, and they gingerly set down the crane he had been folding. "You okay?"

Alex nodded and swallowed, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. "Still getting used to it. But it's better."

"That's good. And how's the leg?"

"Unless I move, I can barely feel it."

Well, Alex was constantly fidgeting, so that was saying something. But then, the kid didn't like being mothered so Fox bit back any words he was going to say. Snake was doing that mother job well enough.

"When's Eagle getting here?"

"Tired of my company already?" Fox joked. "He should be here in a few minutes. You want to get out so badly?"

"Fresh air helps me breathe better."

"So does the mask," suggested Fox wryly.

Alex rolled his eyes. "I hate the mask. It's too confining."

Despite them having made plans, Alex had fallen asleep when Eagle wheeled in the chair half an hour later.

* * *

On the day of the wedding, Eagle got him crutches, doctor's orders, and Alex had to crutch his way into Eagle's van that smelled faintly like day-old banana. He pointed it out harshly, unafraid to judge.

"You wanna sit on top of the car?" the man huffed in mock exasperation. "I was hungry, and I got only bananas in the back last time."

"You didn't throw out the peel?"

"The van has its own trashcan, Cub." Eagle gave him a hand with the crutches, guiding him into the shotgun seat. "Yeah, don't tell Fox you're sitting up front. He's gonna kill me."

"Thanks, Eagle."

"No problem, brownie." The sharpshooter set the crutches in the back seat and started the engine when Alex rolled shut the door. "Ready?"

"Ready when you are."

"That's what I like to hear!"

Eagle turned on the classical radio channel with a good-natured grin, and let the music filled the air instead of trying to make conversations. Alex was dismayed that in the small window of time, he was already tired and out of breath. Even shutting the car door took days off of him. The sharpshooter driving gave him a quick glance, one that Alex returned with a nod.

He was tired, but he was all right. It was normal. Would be creepy if he had enhanced healing powers like spider-man. Wished he had, though. Alex shifted in his suit, feeling the lack of a bow tie or a tie around his neck. Snake said a tie would probably suffocate him. Which was mostly true, because when Fox had buttoned up the collar to the top, he was already struggling slightly to breathe.

"Is it too tight?" Eagle asked, noticing his hands at his collar.

"No, it's fine." It was already a button looser than the formality. But Fox didn't really mind, saying that if Alex needed to wear t-shirts and jeans to his wedding, he damn well could. Yeah, Alex didn't want to embarrass himself to _that_ degree.

They left for the wedding two hours prior to starting to make sure everything would start smoothly, and also that Alex could get used to the surrounding. How touching of them. It was a bright day, but the wind was cool and soothing enough that the wedding was taking place outside. On a beach of all places. It would really be a nice change of scenery.

Eagle got him settled down in the wheelchair after Alex stepped out of the car. "You ready?"

"I hope Ben's sisters aren't here yet," muttered Alex darkly. "They're a hassling bunch."

"Well, they're all older than Fox. Loving little kids is what they do."

"Are you calling me a kid?" Alex felt offended. Really offended. What part of him screamed 'little kid'?

"Something like that. Hey look, there's Wolf in his _dashing_ suit. Dashing dashing, dashing through the snow…" Eagle hummed to himself as he wheeled Alex to where the rest of K-Unit and Stacie were. They noticed the pair as soon as they wheeled onto the sand. Eagle had taken off his shoes and was now walking barefoot across the sand, leaving footprints behind track trails.

"Look who I brought you," exclaimed Eagle as he parked Alex next to the main table. "Cub in a chair!"

"Oh for goodness's sake, Eagle," groaned Alex. "Hey Wolf."

"You got here okay?"

"Eagle's van smelled like banana," Alex made a face. "Yeah, I got here okay. Barely survived."

Snake gave him a quick pat on the shoulder and made sure that his collar wasn't restricting his breathing. Satisfied that it wasn't, Snake stepped to the side to let Fox and Stacie pass.

Stacie leaned down to give him a firm, but gentle, hug. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Alex smiled then reached down to the box beneath the chair and handed it to her. "Wedding present."

She opened it, pulled out one of the cranes, and set it back in. "Oh, they're beautiful, Alex."

Even though Alex felt as if she had set it out of courtesy, he felt pleased with himself. "There's a thousand of them. I rushed a bit, but I got them done."

"Thank you, Alex." She left to set it on the table among the bigger pile of priced gifts. It wasn't intentional, he knew, but his face felled ever-so-slightly as he silently compared the gifts. Perhaps he should've done more.

"Hey," Fox got his attention, having noticed his look. "It's beautiful. It's worth more than any of those fancy gifts, alright?"

"I wasn't…"

" _Uh-huh_." That was Eagle. "You know, if somebody knocks that table over, only your gift will survive because all the other are probably made of really fragile glass."

"Thanks," Alex replied dryly.

"No sweat. I'm gonna go see what there's to eat. You okay without my gracious present?"

"Oh just go away already, Eagle."

The sharpshooter clasped him gently on the shoulder and left. Snake, of course he had to, followed with a frown. Better make sure that Eagle didn't eat anything he wasn't supposed to.

Wolf pulled up a chair next to him, looked at him, and asked carefully. "What were you thinking?"

"Thinking? About what?"

"When you pointed a bloody gun at your head. What were you thinking?" Alex noted the anger and frustration in Wolf's tone, but he also noted the lack of emphasis in his question.

It wasn't 'what were you _thinking'_ but rather, 'what were you thinking'. Just a question. What was he thinking about when he aligned the tip of the cold barrel to his skull? Alex swallowed and looked away. "Well, I wasn't thinking about anything in particular."

"You thought that if you…die, the boy will live?"

"Something like that." Would Wolf believe him if he said he knew the first five shots would click empty? Probably not when Alex himself didn't believe in it.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

 _C'mon_. "There's bound to be something dumber," was Alex's dry remark as he grabbed the wheels of the wheelchair and proceeded to roll himself out from under the tent. He shook his head at Wolf and Fox's offer to help. "I'm gonna grab some air."

"Company?" Fox more or less demanded.

"Since you asked."

Alex wheeled himself across the sand. It was harsh, having to roll every each small dune and sink into each hole, but the closer they got to the water, the easier it became. The sand was packed into the hard floor by the receding waves, and the trail made by the wheels carved like railings around Fox's own footsteps behind.

"You doing okay?" Fox was clearly worried, and it was entirely justified because Alex felt like he had just run a marathon over the short distance he had traveled. That wasn't good, Alex realized.

"Catching my breath," managed Alex.

"Too much?"

Alex made a face. "Too _little_. I've been stuck in bed for weeks. Now there's finally some excitement."

A snort in disbelief. "You're lucky the doctor even allowed you out of bed."

He was lucky to even _be alive_. Alex had heard the operations had gone through some hitches along the way. He must have had died a few times, Alex thought morbidly.

"What you were willing to do for that kid was brave but stupid." Ah. Alex obviously hadn't learned his lesson to even think that Fox wouldn't bring up that topic. "Don't do it ever again."

"I promise."

"Good."

Then the conversation receded just as quickly as the wave came. A single seashell washed up to the shore, but it had only moments before the water swallowed it whole again. Alex wished he could at least talk with Travis. He hadn't seen the kid after they were rescued. He received gratitude, yes, but he thought they needed to have a good talk.

Nobody understood what Travis went through more than the person who went through it with him. Warm blankets might smother the fire, but the chance of the fire swallowing the blanket was just as big.

"Did you invite Travis to the wedding?" asked Alex stupidly.

"Travis? The Cole kid? No, why?"

"Just want to talk to him."

"You did receive his letter of gratitude." Fox arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, it's not the same as a conversation."

The ex-spy absently reached over and patted his shoulder. "I'll see what I can do, but after the wedding."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem. Let's go back. A wedding isn't a wedding without the groom."

Alex glanced at the main tent, its beige flaps fluttering in the wind, catching and reflecting the light. People had gathered and were chatting away at their own pace. People he didn't know. Fox's family. Stacie's family. Friends from SAS.

He hesitated. "You go ahead. I'll be right there."

"You sure?"

" _Ben_ ," Alex sighed in mock exasperation. "Don't keep the bride waiting."

"Okay okay, come back up soon, okay?"

"Mhm."

* * *

Their wedding was an informal one, one without the whole bride showing up late, but rather straightforward with the vow. Simple, exactly what they both wanted.

"I do." Those two words sealed them together for the years to come.

They kissed. Stacie grinned, and they both laughed in relief. The crowd cheered, and as they walked down the makeshift aisle, nearly crashing into each other walking on the uneven sand, people clapped him on the back in congratulation.

Thirty minutes was all it took. Months of preparation offstage but barely an hour onstage, and then it was done. But that was okay. They were doing this for themselves, not for others.

Before they started the dances, Fox looked for Alex in the crowd. Alex said he didn't want to roll his chair all the way up front, so they settled for a reserved seat in the back that still guaranteed a good view. Alex was nowhere to be found. Shrugged, Fox let it slide. The catered food was great, and definitely a welcoming break from hospital food. Alex was probably off somewhere stuffing himself. Fox gave a short laugh under his breath at the imagery.

"What's funny?" asked Stacie with a grin, moving along with the music.

"Mmm, just thinking about the food."

After the first song ended and Stacie went dancing with her father, Fox found Wolf at the catering table. "You saw Alex?"

Wolf bit off the tail of a shrimp. "No. Thought he was with you?"

Fox rolled his eyes. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, you came back from the water without him. Eagle thought you were hiding him for some final surprise. Exploding flowers, he said."

"Yeah, Alex definitely looks like the type who'd agree to something like that. But seriously, you didn't see him?"

"Not since you went for a walk with him." Wolf set down his plate, a frown on his face. "Why? Where is he?"

By now, the nagging voice at the back of his head was slowly making its way to the front. "With Eagle?"

Wolf turned and jerked his head at the sharpshooter and the medic a few tables down helping themselves to the food. "Don't think so. Where did you last see him?"

"Well, I left him by the water because he wanted a few minutes to himself," said Fox slowly. "He didn't come back up?"

Strange. And unpleasantly so.

Putting down everything else, the two exchanged a quick glance and set off in a hurry to the edge of the waves. Alex you better still be sitting in the bloody chair staring morosely at the water or something. The sand hindered their progress, threatening to drag them down with each step they took but the faster they moved, the lesser the obstacle.

What they noticed immediately were two sets of footprints leading to and away from the lone wheelchair the waves were lapping gently at. Now, Alex might be a stubborn kid, but physically he wasn't capable of walking more than a few steps without supports of some kind.

"He's not here."

Yes, _thank you_ for stating the obvious, Wolf. "Maybe he went back." Fox glanced at the track leading away and followed it with his eyes to the parking lot. Were Eagle and Snake here? They might have helped Alex back to the car.

"I'm gonna check out the parking lot," Fox suggested. "Ask Eagle if he saw Alex?"

"Yeah, sure." Wolf nodded and turned to head back.

There was no way that Eagle would've taken Alex back to the car without the wheelchair, Fox thought. But then what else? Where could Alex have gone?

Well, there was always the chance of the kid getting taken. But by whom? Heaven knew how many enemies they have accumulated over the years.

Fox located Eagle's pale beige minivan a few seconds later and peered into the darkened interior. With the sun shining brightly above them, it was really hard to make out any definite shape. However, of all the shapes, Fox was certain that none of them was Alex.

"Hey, you saw a kid here by any chance?" Fox asked as he flagged down the man manning the pay station. "Dirty blond, about my height, probably can't walk on his own?"

The man snuffed out the last of his cigarette and blew out an ashy breath. "A kid?"

"Yes, a kid." Well, Alex was nineteen. He was still a kid. Fox rummaged into his wallet, pulled out the picture Alex had taken with K-Unit just a few months earlier and pointed him out for the ticket seller. "You saw him?"

The man squinted and leaned out of the window to take a better look. "Eh, yeah, think so."

"Where?"

"He was carried into a car and they left about half an hour ago."

"They?" Fox snapped in alarm. "Who took him?"

"Hey, wasn't me. I have no idea. A man and a woman. His parents, maybe? Well, the kid was asleep."

Parents? Unless John and Helen Rider came _back_ to life, no way. Maybe they were a pair of good Samaritans who thought Alex was abandoned at the beach? Haha, _funny_. "Did you get a look at the plate of the car?"

"No," the man frowned. "Why would I? Is the kid in trouble or something?"

Ignoring the question, Fox demanded. "I need to take a look at your cameras."

"Yeah, it's not operating right now. Some animal gnawed out the lines yesterday, we're still fixing it."

"Great." How utterly _convenient_.

Footsteps scraped against the sand to get to him. Fox turned to see Snake and the rest of K-Unit. "Ben—"

"Alex got taken," interrupted Fox. "Some couple took him, probably drugged him as well because he was apparently unconscious."

" _What_? When?"

"Left half an hour ago," grunted Fox as he pulled out his phone. "Where's Stace?"

"Still dancing. Should we tell her?"

Wolf shook his head when Fox hesitated. "No, let's not worry her just yet. We don't know who took Alex, or why. Might be a misunderstanding. Let's find out the who first."

The rest of them nodded in agreement. No use crying over spilled milk when it was still salvageable. Not the best metaphor, but Fox could work with that at the moment.

"Call your tech guy," said Wolf. "He might be able to get the plate number."

Fox nodded. "Snake, can you let Stace know that…?"

"On it."

* * *

For a moment, Alex thought he was dreaming. A nice dream enclosed in a nightmare, but still, it was better than seeing it as reality. "Travis?"

"Hey," the kid managed through a split lip. He was sitting against a wall while Alex was on the floor, a position that, thankfully, was better for his leg and breathing.

"You look horrible," Alex said and rolled over. Or tried to, anyway, for his bounded wrists got in the way of making anything more than a forty-five-degree turn. Just great. "Where are we?"

Damp quarter. Barely any light. The smell of nothing good. Didn't take a genius to guess the intention of this place.

"Not sure," admitted Travis. "They drugged me. When I woke up, I was just here. And then they dumped you in."

Alex's eyes flickered to Travis. "Who's 'they'?"

"Some guy and a woman."

"You know them?"

A shake of the head. Yeah, figured. "Do you know what time it was?"

"Last thing I remember was at my noon therapist appointment." The short fleeting grimace didn't go unnoticed. "I think they were waiting for me."

What did they want with both Travis and him? What did the two of them had in common? Nothing, except for their captivity from weeks ago. The possibility of being a big fat coincidence was slim with a chance of none if Alex were asked. The possibility of this being unrelated to their prior was an even bigger and fatter zero.

"You okay though?" Alex said.

A nod from his peripheral vision. Alex wished the kid could use monosyllable instead of nonverbal cues because hearing, at the moment, was easier than seeing. The room was dim sans the single candle. A fire hazard, especially when they seemed to be enclosed by wood.

Alex needed to at first identify just who their captors were before he could make his move. Were they like Jack the crazy psycho with shreds of intelligence, or Horace the brawn with more muscles than brain cells? Unlike their previous little incident, however, Alex didn't have a lot to offer the captors and he had a lot at risk.

He couldn't run too far, got tired quickly, and had the breathing capability of a drowning victim. And Travis, well, he looked like somebody had used his face for a punching bag, and Alex wondered how that happened. There were more than a million ways for any plan of his to go wrong—that was if he could come up with a plan in time.

"I have a plan," whispered Travis suddenly as he shifted in his position against the wall until he was closer to Alex. "They didn't find my pocket knife. It's still in my pocket. I can get it, and cut through the ropes."

A knife. Definitely a good start, but, "Then what?"

"What?"

"We cut the rope, and then what? What if they're right outside?"

"Well…We can stab them."

The kid was funny. "Yeah, good start, we just need to plan out the rest."

At least they got a knife. That was something. While, of course, they wouldn't bring a knife to a gunfight, they wouldn't bring _nothing_ to a gunfight either. Something was better than nothing in most cases.

What would he do if he were alone? Probably cut the rope first because he had a better chance of fighting back. Alex scanned the room quickly, looking for a door. Beside the small candle hanging on the wall of the low ceiling, there was no other light source to identify itself as the crack at the bottom of the door. Or it could be night.

"You know where the door is?" Alex asked.

"Up. It's a trapdoor. I think we're in a basement or something, but I didn't get a good look outside."

Well, that's a change in plan. Basements were big disadvantages in terms of height. Alex blew out a soft sigh and tasted dust at a short inhale. He coughed it out in distaste. The light of the candle flickered once in its cradle. Carefully, Alex watched the fire slowly trying to lick out the tip. There were about 3 inches of it left. Plenty for a romantic night, but definitely not enough to last a sundown.

"Do you think they're coming back?" asked Travis. "It's been a while."

It sure had, Alex grimaced. "I hope so."

They were captured for a reason. Whatever it was, they obviously needed them alive. The next time the captors leave the room, Alex would let Travis cut the rope. Until then, they needed to remain as they were.

"What have you been up to the past few weeks?" asked Alex in hope of a light conversation. "You didn't drop by. I was hoping to talk to you."

"Yeah, dad didn't want me to visit you. He's, well, scared, I think."

Scared? "What for?"

"He," Travis sighed. "He thinks by not talking to you, I can just forget what happened. It really didn't work. He got me appointments with a therapist as well."

"How's that going?"

"She talks about stupid things. It's just not working either."

Alex was suddenly reminded of himself from years ago. Months ago, really. It was never a person to _talk_ to that he needed, but rather _the_ person to talk to. There were words that he had wanted to hear before he felt right again. Maybe that was what Travis needed as well.

"What 'bout nightmares?"

"You sound like my psychiatrist."

Alex snorted but waited. Eventually, Travis answered. "Yeah, I get them. But it's nothing I can't deal with by myself."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Maybe not now. Some other time.

The end of their brief conversation was accompanied suddenly by a loud grumble and a harsh cracking sound as if something was being demolished above them. Travis glanced up sharply, and so did Alex. Dusty debris rained down through cracks in the ceiling. Earthquake, but not an earthquake because they could both hear the sound of a machine being operated. And muffled voices trying to be heard over the noises.

"You said we're in a basement?"

"I think so. Why?"

"What do you think is happening outside?" As if on cue, the beeping sound of a machine backing up came through the thick ceiling despite its best defense. Then the sound of falling crashed through the denser silence like meteorites.

Their eyes met. "Oh."

Sounded like the place they were in was being demolished, with them right beneath like ants. Well. He wished he was still dreaming.

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A.N.: Aha winter break's almost over. So sorry that this chapter's just rolling out.

* * *

Ever since he was young, Alex had been told that 'it was okay to make mistakes' and that 'mistakes are crucial to human growth'. Completely true until mistakes became deadly weapons that the enemies didn't know they had. He had let his guard down, naively believing that Fox's wedding was all going to be flowers, daisies, sunshine, and unicorns.

Well, fault him not for being uncharacteristically optimistic. Nobody had expected the unexpected after all.

"Cub," hissed Travis. "What's the plan?"

Plan? Wryly, Alex replied, "Think if you scream loud enough, they will hear us?"

The kid cleared his throat and really did scream. Alex groaned and rolled over to shield his ears away from the cacophony of sounds. _Damn_ that kid had a lung. But no matter how much Travis tried, the sound of the machines and the thundering of loose dirt engulfed his pitiful attempts.

"It's not working," growled Travis in slight annoyance as he gave the trapdoor a hard punch, then immediately proceeded to nurse his knuckles.

"I can see that," Alex said unhelpfully as he pulled himself to a sitting position against the wall. "I doubt they'll be back to get us. We need to get out of here as soon as possible or we'll be buried alive."

Travis nodded, painstakingly nudged out the knife in his pocket, and with accuracy, cleaved away the rope rubbing his wrists raw. Then he did the same with Alex's until broken ropes fell to a cluster around them. Alex gently rubbed his and rotated his shoulder to get the circulation back.

"I can pry open the trapdoor," suggested Travis as he flicked his pocket knife open again. He more or less yelled to be heard over the noise.

"The machine's still operating," Alex shook his head. "If we open the door now, we'll either bury ourselves with dirt or get clobbered to death. I say we wait till everything stops. They can't possibly work all day for hours."

Travis begrudgingly nodded and slumped back. Watching the kid, Alex felt inclined to at least engage him in some sort of conversation. Anything to keep the kid's mind off of the machine burying them alive, he thought dryly. He got up slowly and moved to sit next to Travis.

However, Travis clearly had thoughts of his own before Alex could even open his mouth. "So what are you?"

"Hundred-percent organic human."

The kid snorted. "I mean, are you police?"

Interested, Alex glanced at Travis. "Why do you ask?"

"Kinda want to be one when I grow up." The way the kid squeezed it out sounded like he had yet to tell anybody else about it.

"Your father doesn't want you to inherit the hotel business?"

"No," Travis paused. "Yeah. I mean, well, no, he does, but we've never really talked about it."

Oh. "You don't want to work in that line of business?"

Travis frowned. "No, it's not that. I mean, yeah, I'm okay if that's what he wants. If he asks, I'll do it. But it's not something I feel so passionate about."

"Oh?"

"Being a powerful man like my father sounds really appealing and exciting, but I, I just don't feel any sort of pull toward it."

Parent and child disagreement. Well, Alex never really got a chance to experience that. "Have you talked with your father about what you want?"

"No, I haven't. But he's supportive of everything I do." Alex frowned at the confession. Then what was the problem? "Too supportive."

"Doesn't sound like a bad thing to me?"

Travis laughed and shook his head. "It's not a bad thing. It's just that, the pressure. I want him to be proud of me but I'm just always half-arsing everything. I want to try harder, but those thoughts are always just surges of momentary emotions."

"Look, when I was—"

Suddenly, the sound of engines above them stopped. The deafening silence shattered the rest of the conversation. Alex and Travis exchanged a quick glance, scrambled to their feet, and waited. Sounded like it was time for lunch. Or dinner break. Or breakfast break. Whatever.

Alex held out his hand for the knife, Travis passed it to him, and he gingerly sank it into the small cracks in the trapdoor. The cracks were packed deep by the smaller debris of sand and rocks. Coughing as clouds of sand pummeled from the first stab, Alex batted the cloud away and stepped away.

"Something wrong?" asked Travis.

Yeah. "I think there are more dirt and sand where these came from," Alex told the kid as he slid the knife back into its slot. Reaching up, he knocked on the board. Solid. Definitely blocked. "Don't think it's a good idea to open the door just yet." Especially when the door opened inward.

"Then what are we going to do?" Travis looked just a tad bit nervous.

"Well." Alex opened his mouth, watching the expectant look on the kid's face. Dammit. "That's a _great_ question."

* * *

"We're asking the wrong questions," muttered Snake as he pulled a fuming Fox and Wolf away from the interrogation room. "They're not gonna just give up information after going to so much trouble to kidnap Cub and Cole."

"Well, what's the right question then?" Fox snapped back, took a deep breath, and apologized for his tone. Snake took it naturally, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder to say all was good.

Beside them, having a heated conversation with Mrs. Jones, was the father of Travis Cole. The man had called the deputy as soon as he had found his son's therapist unconscious in his office and his son gone. Strange that the man immediately went to her instead of the police. It didn't take long before the therapist woke up, gave a gender description of the two, and then that was connected to Cub's disappearance. The why was unclear, but at least they had something to start with the help of Smithers, a few cameras, and a quick description of the car and the pair. But cameras only went so far.

"There have been no ransom demands," Snake said. "Nothing at all. It's been almost five hours."

"Everybody wants something."

"Exactly."

Fox glanced past the windows at the man and woman cuffed to the table in separate rooms. They were defiant, and it was written all over their face. They looked almost smug. Was Alex dead? Fox's jaw clenched. Was that why they looked like they had won the war? Alex better be alive or somebody was going to pay heftily.

"You think this is very much related to Cole's first kidnapping?" Fox asked. "Cole escaped, and now they want to do it again?"

"Something along the line, I'd say."

"But why Alex?"

"Cub did help the kid escape."

Revenge? Fox turned to the father inquisitively. Cole had done nothing wrong other than being the son of the wealthy businessman. Then, Alex had done nothing wrong besides being at the wrong place at the right time. Yeah, the spy had a knack of doing that. Alex was a literal trouble magnet, cliche or not. From what Alex had told him, not all of the missions he went on back when he was fourteen were assigned by MI6; some were just troubles he had dug up by being too curious.

Curiosity was a good trait, up till the cat got himself killed. It was a good trait for spies, to have an inquisitive mindset, something to glue them to their surrounding instead of pressing head-on like Wolf sometimes did out of habits. Fox glanced at his unit leader heading inside to interrogate the man again. Wolf, well, Wolf had changed. To be honest, Fox had no idea what was going on inside that man's head but ever since Alex had gotten his memory back and got past—not really—the roller-coaster trainwreck, Wolf had been more tuned in to his surrounding.

For almost four years now, the five of them were a ragtag special force group and Mrs. Jones seemed to have realized that they worked well together. Fox smirked. They did, didn't they? Four years of life and death could do that to people, sort of like apocalypse he thought. Threw people in a burning cauldron and they would either form a chain to pull themselves out of it or die alone trying to climb out by themselves.

Fox glanced at the two-way mirror, at Wolf palms flat on the table, then at the silent man sitting opposite of the soldier. What did the man want? Wolf was right when he said everybody wanted something. Fame? Fortune?

"Where's Cole and the officer you kidnapped?" Wolf was growling dangerously. "If you cooperate, you have a chance to redeem yourself and reduce the time you'll spend rotting in a cell."

They'd been asking that same question for hours now, cutting different sentencing deals to no avail. If anything, the man just looked mildly infuriated—he wasn't afraid of death, Fox realized, he was holding himself up like a soldier. Begrudgingly, he admired the man for it. But no matter how much he appreciated the mindset of a soldier, now was not the time.

A soldier held his tongue for his country; what was the man holding his for?

Fox opened the door and walked in. Wolf glanced up, "Found something?"

"Lemme try," Fox suggested, giving Wolf a quick clap on the shoulder.

A quick fueled glare at the man sitting in the chair, Wolf exited and left the room to Fox. The ex-spy met the gaze of the man quietly. He was defiant, that was fine. Fox just needed to find that _something_ the man was trying to defend, then all the rest would become clearer.

"Let's start over," Fox said. "What's your name?"

The man glanced at him, mouth parted, and for a long moment, only silence passed between them. Then he closed it. "André."

"Well, André, do you know why you're here?"

The man kept his silence. André had refused to answer that question every single time even though they had him IDed and caught on at least one of the traffic cams sporting the same car. That was fine. As long as he knew they knew, they could skip the step.

"Alright, why don't I take a step back," said Fox slowly. "And let you talk."

André glanced at him as if he was stupid.

"Tell me your side of the story. What is it that _you_ want?" Silence. Right, Fox grimaced mentally, maybe he was moving a little too ambitiously. "From one soldier to another, I know you're standing for something you believe in. And I admire you strongly for that. You kidnapped two kids,"—Alex would absolutely hate him for calling him a kid—"for a reason. If it's not for money, what is it? To make a point?"

Leaning back in his eat, André did not break eye contact. Well, at least that was some form of acknowledgment.

"What point are you trying to make?" Fox crossed his arms and stepped back to lean against the wall himself.

Political point? Personal vendetta? Against whom? Fox glanced at the mirror, even though he knew he couldn't see past it. Of _course_. The first time might be coincidence, but second time definitely wasn't. The first time Cole was kidnapped, it was a ransom demand. But a second time? With Alex? They were definitely very much connected. But if the second time wasn't for money, who said the first had to be?

Fox pushed himself off of the wall and took a seat in front of the man. "What do you have against Mr. Cole?"

Ah. A glint of recognition. André leaned in. "Don't try to understand me."

"Enlighten me."

Eventually, the man sat back. "I want him in here."

Fox glanced at the mirror again and nodded. What harm could it do? André clearly had something against Mr. Cole—unsurprising, powerful people made enemies as easily as it was for them to misuse their power—and if this suppressed anger could bring out anything about Alex and Cole's whereabouts, all the better.

The father came in with Snake accompanying him. Fox offered his seat, but both declined so he chose to stand with them.

Mr. Cole was quick to stride across the room and growled, "You bastard—"

Fox put a hand on the man's shoulder to physically rein him in. "Let him talk."

Sitting back looking as if he owned the place, André smiled. "Mr. Cole, I _know_ you know."

"What's he talking about?" demanded the businessman as if Fox knew.

André straightened, clasping his hands together on the table with the slightest flicker of anger. Fox and Snake exchanged a glance. Definitely a vendetta against the looming businessman. Then his gaze hardened like chipped ice. "Don't play games with me. That's how people get _killed_."

" _Where_. Is. My son?"

"Why? You already know, _Mister_ Cole."

André refused to give another word to the businessman and Wolf had to rush in to pull Mr. Cole out of the room before he could launch himself at the man smiling to himself. Snake gave Fox a nod before leaving the ex-spy alone with André again.

"What do you mean he already knows?"

"It's personal."

Fine. Fox respected that, but, "The other kid you kidnapped isn't involved in this."

André gave him a long gaze, gauging him quietly with a hint of…regret? "I'm sorry."

Oh God, _no_. Fox felt the air leaving his lung with a punch to his heart. The words that fell out of his mouth was nothing more than a soft whisper. "Tell me he's alive."

"He helped the wrong side."

No. "No, goddammit, he only _rescued_ the kid. He's not involved. He doesn't know any bloody side! Alex had nothing to do with your vendetta. _Tell me he's alive_."

For the first time, the man looked away.

" _No_ , you better— _fuck_ you! Where is he? _Tell me he's alive_!" Fox roared, slamming his hands on the table.

"...I'm sorry."

"Oh _no, no, no_. You don't get to be bloody sorry!" jerking the man up by his collar, Fox yelled. "I don't need sorry, I need to know where he is and you better tell me or I so swear to God I will _fucking kill you_ —"

Hands grabbed him, hauling him back. "Fox!"

Fox shrugged off the grips on his arms in frustration as Snake all but dragged him out of the room. Cool, right. Keep calm. André was bluffing. He hadn't gotten his point across yet, there was no way he would just kill the two hostages.

"He said you knew," Fox rounded on Mr. Cole. "Where are they?"

"I don't know!" Then at Fox's glance, the man frowned. "You think I _don't_ want to find my son?"

"Alright alright!" Snake separated them. "Mr. Cole, what does André have against you?"

Leaving the medic to deal with the situation, Fox dragged Wolf aside. He refused to believe that Alex was dead. "I don't like this. We need to find them. _Now_."

Wolf nodded, clapping him firmly on the side of his arm. "I know. We're one step closer, thanks to you."

"Compliments, Wolf? That's unlike you."

"Eagle." They both turned, startled by the sudden appearance of the sharpshooter. "You found something?"

"Yeah," Eagle waved Snake over. "Smithers and Beck, actually, found something. Six months ago, our man next room, André Cataldi, filed a missing person report for his fiancee Caroline Clyne. Clyne was Mr. Cole's personal assistant."

They all turned to glance at the businessman when he let slip a quiet, " _Her_." For some reason, it sounded like a curse.

"Yeah," Eagle said, his tone hardened to the rest of K-Unit's surprise. "A few months ago, Caroline's body turned up at an abandoned roadside shack, found by a couple of tourists. André filed murder and sexual assault charges against _you_ , Mr. Cole. But the police weren't able to find any clue linking you to her murder."

Mr. Cole snapped. "That's because I did _no_ such thing as killing her."

"Then why would André believe that you did?"

"The man's delusional," Mr. Cole argued in anger, pointing a finger at André through the mirror. "His fiancee wanted to break off the engagement, she told me personally. He probably didn't like it and decided to blame it on me."

"She was found suffocated, buried, and left for _dead_ in a shack only blocks away from where she worked."

"I had nothing to do with it. Look, I want my son back, you want your guy back, now's not a good time to bring up these petty problems."

" _Petty_?"

"Hey," Snake put a hand on the sharpshooter's arm and muttered. "I hate to agree with him, but now's not the time. We need to find the kids." He turned back to Mr. Cole. "If what André want is revenge, we're definitely not getting a ransom note."

"He's going to kill my boy," Mr. Cole realized, spinning around, a hand over his mouth in disbelief. "He's going to _kill_ my boy."

 _And_ Alex, thank you for caring. Fox shook his head, pulling his thoughts away. Now was not the time to get petty. "André said you knew where they are."

"I don't, alright? If I knew, I'd be out there, not stuck in here listening to…" They listened to the trailed-off voice and turned to watch a sudden flicker of realization on the man's face. "I think I know where. God, I hope I'm wrong."

"Where?" demanded Wolf.

"The shack."

"Where the girl you killed—"

"I did _not_ kill her. He believes in something so foolish, no doubt he wants to complete this insane circle the same way. We need to get there now."

Eagle grabbed a pen and scribbled down the address on the screen, slapping it in Wolf's hands as he said, "That's the address."

They were out the door before Mrs. Jones could input a word.

Now that Fox thought about it, they'd never had to say more than a few words to Mrs. Jones whenever it concerned Alex. For that, Fox liked the woman much more than Blunt who had been nothing more than a cold bristling ice—whose vacation at some place warm to melt his cold dead heart had been a much-needed change in the office. Somewhere in Alex, Mrs. Jones saw an innocent child. Perhaps not much anymore, but in the end, Alex was just Alex. He had his breaking points, and she was taking approaches to make sure that the point was never within reach.

Wolf wore his emotions behind what he thought was a gruff mask, approaching everything with burning enthusiasm. The leader was easy to read when there was a change. Wolf was tough, and he always tried to prioritize his team even as he battled his demons. He wasn't afraid to let people have a piece of his mind.

Unlike Wolf, Fox preferred that others did _not_ know what he was feeling. It was crucial to missions, after all. A spy who could be read like an open book was a dead spy. In more ways than one, he was sure that that was what made Alex and him click. They understood each other without the need to word it. Spies, Wolf would mutter.

Fox knew he was being hypocritical: telling Alex that it was okay to depend on people when they both knew that dependency led directly to the deaths of those they loved. He remembered telling Alex that they just had to be stronger and tougher to protect those they loved. _Look where that got Jack and Sabina_ , Alex had said. Was Alex not strong enough? No, the kid was strong enough—Alex was the sharpest blade but he was pitted against guns. That was all, but it wasn't like Fox could say that out loud: that the kid was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Alex would definitely take it as his fault, that he should've learned to wield a gun rather than a knife.

Well, now that Fox had Stacey, sometimes all he could think at night were ways to hide security cameras and monitor her every action. He was a spy, he made enemies, and any second he spent letting his guard down was a second of opportunity for the enemies. No wonder Eagle called him paranoid.

Stacey expected him to open up, some sort of no secrets between the married, but Fox had always thought it was okay to keep being himself. Sharing wasn't his thing. Throw him a tearjerker, he'd cry, but he wasn't going to share his stories. After all, Alex turned out okay, didn't he? Not that, of course, Alex was a good healthy example to follow, but as an example, he would suffice.

Although ever since Wolf and Alex resolved whatever animosity they had between them, Alex had begun to change. Of course, he wasn't running around preaching about love and appreciation, but he let K-Unit in a little bit more. Visibly, his sense of humor had grown haywire. Perhaps that was the wake-up call Fox needed to start changing as well.

The car slowed down as their path was barred by fences. Construction in progress, the diamond-shaped signs read as the light of the car's front headlight shone upon it. The orange-clad workers behind the cones waved at them with their sticks, shaking their head as if the signs weren't clear enough when Eagle pulled the vehicle off the road and right up to the gate where dirt trucks would roll in to pull away the debris.

"Hey, you can't go in here." One of the workers came by, cradling his helmet in his hands as Eagle rolled down the tinted windows.

Fox and Wolf exchanged a glance, and the former leaned out to ask. "When did you start?"

"Sorry?"

"The construction. When did you start? Weeks ago?"

"Just earlier today."

Okay. Well. There was still the chance that Alex and Cole were in there. How long had they been gone? Six hours? Six hours was a long time. And Fox wasn't even entirely sure that they were in this shack that was about to be stripped down.

"Who's in charge?" Wolf asked. "We need a word."

"Listen, we're in the middle of something here," said the worker. "I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave. Go home, or something. You shouldn't be out so late."

"And somehow construction working past ten is perfectly fine?"

"We have the green light."

They got past the disgruntled workers after hassling and a few threats, including a call to MI6 that immediately put the operations to a stop. They had the trucks and drillers shine light upon the half-demolished house as Fox and Wolf took the lead to navigate past the broken lumbers.

To think that Alex was here, buried, as a consequence of some filthy rich businessman having done something horrible but refusing to admit it, made Fox's brows furrow. Mrs. Jones should've never thrown Alex into the mission in the first place. Fox should've never asked Alex to go upstairs to find the kid himself. Well, if Alex hadn't been a spy, none of this would have happened.

Fox mentally slapped himself. Good job Ben, blaming it on the victim.

"We made sure the shack was completely vacated before we started the demolition," the worker said, nearly stumbling over a particularly large piece of lumber in his haste to hand Fox and Wolf the protective helmets. How considerate.

"What 'bout the basement?" That was where the woman's body was found. "Please tell me you checked the basement?"

"A basement? We weren't aware there is one," the man frowned. "The building map has no record of one."

"Wasn't aware a shack has a building map."

"Well, it _was_ part of the city's underground sewage line. Everything the city built has a blue map. Few years back, the diverged path to here caved in so they redirected the main segment to someplace else. Now the shack is just in the way of the road."

Fox grabbed the proffered map and squint at the blue lines, unable to see clearly until Wolf shone a flashlight on the darkened paper. The worker was right: there were no records of a basement in the building map.

"What 'bout the woman who was found dead here a few months ago?" asked Wolf. "Police report says she was found beneath the floorboards."

"Like I said, we _made sure_ the shack's clear before we went in. We called out for any identification, but nobody responded. It was _clear_."

The three of them ducked under the semi-demolished beam barely in shape to support the collapsed roof. Snake and Eagle stayed with the car and Mr. Cole. The man had insisted in going in with them, but the structure looked like it was going to kill somebody any day soon and Fox really did not want the death of a wealthy businessman on their hands.

Fox coughed as a small drift of dust cloud made its way upward in the breeze. "We need to clear the floor first."

"Look, there's no basement as far as we saw."

"Can't hurt to look," Fox said in irritation. "Unless you're hiding something. Besides, I'm sure a few decibels less in the middle of the night would do more good than harm to your neighbors."

"Fine," the worker said, getting a shovel from the back of the truck. "Shack's not too big, we can scrape it away. Keep the dump pile from blocking the—"

"Hold up," Wolf said, a frown marring his face. "You hear that?"

A cricket chirped in the night innocently, drawing a strained grimace from Fox. "What?"

"Thumping."

They quiet down, tuned out the background noise, and listened. For a long second, there was nothing. Then the faintest distinct sound of something unnatural came through. A thump, muffled by wood, sounding almost like a thud of a footstep.

"Cub?" It came out softer than he had intended, so Fox tried again.

The thudding stopped. Then it came back a little louder, a quick pause, and then a few more. In a rhythm. Fox rolled his eyes, breathing out a sigh of relief. Mario Kart, only Alex. "He's underneath. Let's go. Cub, is Cole with you?"

One rather loud thump. Fox wasn't sure if that was positive or negative, but seeing that there was little to no hesitation, Fox was leaning toward a positive response.

It took them a few minutes to locate the basement. It was crudely dug with a hint of personal touches. No wonder it wasn't in the building map. It was definitely built after the shack was erected. They had dug away the sand with the shovel, the sound of contact against wooden boards grew louder by second.

When they yank open the makeshift trapdoor, well, it apparently wasn't Alex who had been knocking on it. It was Travis. Suddenly, Fox feared the worst.

"Where's Cub?" asked Fox, watching the kid cough aside the dust clouds kicked up by the door. "Hey, Cole, where's Cub?"

"He's taking a nap," Travis said as he pointed down the narrowed space. "I'll go wake him up."

"A nap?" Apprehension gripped his heart like no other. "No, I got him. You get out of here with Wolf."

Fox eased himself into the basement after Wolf hauled the kid out by his arms. "Alex?"

The spy was lying on the floor, a hand over his stomach and—thank god—chest heaving up and down gently with each even steady breath. Quickly making his way to the kid, Fox checked for a pulse with two fingers to the neck. Steady, although a bit shallower than Fox would prefer. Underneath the pale white glow of the flashlight, Alex looked even paler than usual.

Understandable, really, seeing that he had just barely been discharged from a hospital. Fox gently tapped on his cheek. "C'mon Alex, wake up. I'm sure you don't wanna suffer the humiliation of being carried."

True to the habits of spies, Alex's eyes slowly slid open but awareness was already washing over the grogginess. Fox rolled his eyes when the kid groaned. "Ben?"

"Yeah, who else?" He smirked, hauling Alex into a sitting position. "Let's get you out for some fresh air. I can smell corpses down here."

"Well," Alex commented meekly as he struggled to his feet but kept his head low so he wouldn't make contact with the ceiling. "Oxygen was a bit scarce."

"I noticed."

"Hey, um," the spy started as they set foot onto the debris-covered floor of the shack with Fox mostly keeping Alex from going zigzag in his steps. Fox glanced over, noticing the way Alex was having trouble formulating his words and keeping the content of his stomach down at the same time.

"Yeah?" Fox prompted.

"Can you just drop me at the house? No hospital."

Fox snorted as they neared the car, " _Of course_ , let's get you straight back home, should we? Then Snake will whip up some chicken soup, wrap you like a warm burrito, and Wolf will sing you lullabies—for _fuck's_ sake, are you daft, Alex? You _are_ going to a hospital. No buts. End of discussion. Now shut up, breathe in the oxygen, and keep outta trouble."

They drove to the hospital in record time with Wolf and Snake up front and the rest of them in the back two rows. The father grabbed onto Travis's hands, but there were shimmering reluctance on the kid's face until Alex offered to switch with Eagle and sit with the Coles in the very back seat.

Well, Fox let it slide even though he would very much prefer to be able to keep an eye on Alex without having to twist around. Travis clearly found solace in Alex's presence, despite the spy not really saying much in what must be a nauseous haze of a dull headache from oxygen deprivation.

They admitted Alex into one of the rooms, and Fox watched as they pulled the mask back over Alex's face, connecting it to the pure oxygen tank beside the bed. The candle burning in the basement along with the trapped space had pulled the oxygen level dangerously low, and Fox didn't want to think about what would have happened if they were minutes too late.

He shook his head. No sense dwelling in the past when the present was as perfect as it was ever going to get. In the meantime, there was something else that had to be dealt with.

That was how he found himself back in the interrogation room, hands laced, in front of André who looked a little more haggard since they last met. Strangely, Fox felt only pity now. The anger had faded away with Alex (and Travis)'s safe return.

"They're alive," Fox began slowly.

There was resignation in those eyes when André sighed quietly. "I see."

Fox pushed aside his feelings. "You wanted Mr. Cole to suffer for what he did."

"I did."

"Why?"

"Why are you asking me? You already know."

"I want to know the whole story," Fox said. "From you."

"So what if you know?" André shook his head. "What good is that gonna to do? The man's untouchable. Nobody believes that a _kind_ and _generous_ man like Cole could do anything wrong." He paused with a grimace. "This wasn't how I wanted things to go."

"You wanted to kill his son the same way he did to your fiance Caroline Clyne."

"Something like that."

"Why did Cole kill her?" When André didn't answer, Fox leaned forward. "Look, we saved the kids not for Cole. It's our job to deal with these kinds of things. We have nothing to do with him."

"What are you saying?"

"We have the power and influences. If we want someone arrested, we can. But only if we have enough evidences. So tell us what you know."

"The whole police is in his pocket."

"Good thing we're not the police. We're entirely way above that." Well, Alex was at least. Wolf and the rest were just a blunt force tactical team. But still, they didn't operate under police jurisdictions. That counted as something.

André met his eyes with a spark in them. "Ah. No wonder."

"What?"

"Jack thought your man was police, but the way he held himself was different. Different jargon and tactics."

"Jack?" Fox arched an eyebrow, a flicker of anger licking his tone before dying away. "Jack, who we arrested the first time for kidnapping the kid?" And nearly killing Alex?

André had the decency to grimace. "Yeah. Sorry 'bout that."

"What's Jack's part in all this?"

"Well," the man cleared his throat and almost bitterly spat out. "Caroline's not the first one. She's the third. Jack's sister Jess was the first."

Oh.

"That was a year ago. The police said it was suicide. Jack said they found her in a bloodied bathtub, wrists slit, days after Jess told him that she was going to file against Cole for sexual assault." He paused. "After I filed a sexual assault report against Cole and failed, Jack contacted me and I realized I wasn't alone in this."

"You said there were three victims?"

"Kacey, the assistant before Caroline—her body was never found."


	4. Chapter 4

Alex didn't know where Fox went, but at the moment, he was content where he sat: in his house with loose indoor clothing watching television reruns of his childhood. He remembered watching the same episodes years ago with Tom, and it was last minute control that stopped him from ringing Tom up. Maybe not today.

"How's the lung?" asked Snake as Eagle cheerfully plopped down beside Alex, hands reaching for the remote only for the spy to snatch it away.

"Breathing."

"And the leg?" Snake arched an eyebrow.

"Attached."

"Head?"

"Annoyed."

Eagle chuckled, "Looks all healed to me. Hey, have you seen Fox? Haven't seen him since morning."

"Yeah," Alex replied, leaning back in the sofa. "Ben said he had some things to deal with. I think he's at HQ."

"What for?"

"Not sure."

Just then, the doorbell rang. Once. They paused, giving each other a glance. Twice. Wolf got up from the sofa with a grunt of irritation and went to open the door. The wall between the living room and the front porch blocked Alex's vision, and it only seconds later when the visitors strolled in did he know who it was.

"Hey, Travis!" Alex's eyes lit up in pleasant surprise. "Whatcha doing here?"

The father came in behind him. "We just wanted to drop by and say thank you."

"Oh, no need for that," said Alex as he got up with a wince. "It's my job."

Eagle snorted quietly, earning a quick glare from Snake. Cole gave Alex a quick smile before turning to Wolf and the others. "Hey, um, can I have a quick word with you guys?"

Alex took it that K-Unit had some prior dealings with Cole while Travis and he were gone. At Wolf's quick nod, Alex turned to Travis. "Hey, wanna go for a quick spin?"

Before Travis could say anything, Cole grimaced in objection. "Maybe not so soon."

"Dad, I'll be fine."

"...Alright. Fine. But absolutely _nothing_ extreme." That was definitely aimed at Alex who nodded with an encouraging smile.

"Of course," said Alex, ignoring Wolf and Snake's pointed glares. He probably wasn't too fit for driving at the moment, but he was going to go crazy if all he could do for the next few weeks was sitting and eating. Well, Alex would make sure that he took it slow.

Despite everything he had done for MI6, Mrs. Jones had refused to give him one of their sleek black cars with tinted windows. She said that it costed money. Well, what didn't? He was still driving his old car, but at least it had served him good over the years of bumpy emotional roads.

"Anywhere you wanna go in particular?" asked Alex as he pulled out of the garage. "Or we can just drive around the neighborhood. I can show you my neighbors' weird cats."

"That sounds good."

So Alex took the straight road down the street. As long as he kept straight, he would be able to find his way back. Hopefully. But really, there weren't many things to see—although there were a _lot_ of things to discuss apparently. Travis always surprised him with the number of tangential thoughts he had.

"So you _are_ police."

"Not exactly," Alex humphed, keeping an eye on the road. Not that he could tell Travis he had been working for MI6 for the past six years. "I'm more of a, uh, _part-timer_."

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure I know what I do," said Alex dryly before adding, " _mostly_ " in case his sarcasm had gone undetected.

"It's just, I don't, I…" Travis sighed as his stumbles took him nowhere. "I need to know if I can trust you with something."

"If it's something illegal, don't worry. I'm the personification of illegal." Travis smiled at that but it was tense. Frowning slightly, Alex took note of it. The kid looked torn. Deciding that he had no reason to be untrustworthy to the kid, Alex said. "I promise you can trust me."

"Okay." A bit too quick, but the relief behind it was evident. "Okay," he said again.

"Sounds serious," Alex noted quietly.

Travis was silent for a long moment, hands fidgeting in his laps and throat constricting ever-so-slightly to betray his nervousness. Must be something big, Alex thought as his eyes slid back to the road ahead and watched the cars began moving again as the light turned green all too sudden.

"I think I know why they, um, took us."

Alex glanced at him, interested. Fox hadn't disclosed much besides it being rather personal. "Fox, my friend, said it was a personal vendetta against your father." He let the silence filled the humming of the engine and waited for Travis to pick it up again.

"My dad," Travis started. "He's a good person. I know he is. He's always there for me." The kid smiled slightly and almost meekly. "It's just, it's been hard for both of us ever since my mom died."

Alex paused, hands faltering slightly at the steering wheel. "I'm sorry."

"It's been a while. Car crash." Travis shrugged it away as if it held no importance. The kid wasn't a good liar, but Alex wasn't a good counselor either. "It was dark, and snowing really hard. We'd been driving for a while, trying to find a place to spend the night but there's just stretches of roads everywhere."

Alex didn't need to hear the rest to know what happened.

"We, um, we were coming around the bend and the car just started skidding on the road, and I remember dad trying to pull us back to the right lane. Then there were just lights. And we were jerked forward. Mom was in the passenger seat. She, just, she didn't…" Travis cleared his throat, his hands clutching each other desperately trying to calm his nerves. "She didn't make it, and dad, he took it really hard."

And you? Alex wanted to ask but, in the end, all he did was a quick glance at the speedometer. Steady. "How long ago was that?"

"A long time," was all Travis said. "My dad gave up his job and decided to open hotel chains and inns. He said,"—a pause—" he said it would help people. He built a lot of them in cities as well as near highway exits. He believed that mom died because there just wasn't enough hotels built in places that needed them the most."

"Do you think they helped?"

"I don't know. I hope so."

"Your mom would've been proud of you two." That came out dumber than he had anticipated, and his cheeks, for a moment, flushed in mild embarrassment.

Travis, however, didn't notice. "Would she?" There was doubt in his voice, and Alex turned in surprise.

"...Why wouldn't she?"

"Because I don't know if I can trust my dad anymore."

The car was a rumbling silence for a while as Alex quietly glanced at Travis out of his peripheral vision. "Why not?"

"Promise you won't tell anybody else until I know more?" Travis asked.

"You have my word," Alex said earnestly.

"A few months back," the kid began slowly. "My dad was working later than usual one night, so I took a cab and went to his office to find him. He wasn't there. I tried looking for his assistant, but she wasn't there either. I remember that it was strange because usually, she stays until dad leaves."

Alex perked in interest.

"You need to know that," Travis swallowed with a shake of his head. "My dad was an honest man and the _best_ father anyone can ever ask for. After mom's death, he just isn't himself. I can't blame him for what he did because he is not himself."

"Go on."

They took a right turn. The road led to the park Alex and Tom had spent so much of their childhood in. Travis might like it. He was just like what Alex had been.

Travis gave him a lingering glance. "I went to the lobby, and the receptionist told me that my dad had just left. His car was outside and I saw him get into it. I tried calling him, but he didn't hear me. So I got into the next cab and had it follow him. I thought he was going home, but instead, he stopped at this construction site a few blocks down."

"What was he doing there?"

"I watched him climb down one of the drains."

Alex arched an eyebrow in unmasked surprise.

"I got out of the cab, and I followed him. It was dark, I remember, but I can hear his footsteps splashing in the sewage water. I followed him all the way to the end. He knew where he was going, and I nearly lost him after a few turns."

"Why did you follow him?" Alex asked curiously with just a hint of amusement.

"He's been drinking lately back then. I was afraid he was gonna…do something stupid. I was worried, you know."

Alex nodded, letting Travis continue his recount.

"He stopped at the end of this tunnel and climbed up a ladder. It's one way up. I didn't want him to see me, so I waited. He came back down after a while, less than a few minutes, and walked back the way he came. I climbed up the ladder to check it out. I thought he was just hiding alcohol stashes here, or some sort of secluded house. I really don't blame him for wanting some alone time. I'm not an easy child."

"Nobody is, Travis."

The kid managed a quick grimace. "Yeah, well, that was the least of my worry. I found his assistant up there, in that _same_ shack we were held in, hands tied behind her back, and gagged. She was on the floor, and when I walked in, she looked really scared. She looked like she saw a monster."

"His assistant?" Alex frowned, slowing the car down to pull into the parking lot. "Why is she there? Did your father—?"

"I don't know!" Travis interrupted him before he could finish the question. "I don't know _what_ he did, or what he didn't do. All I know is what she told me, okay? She said he was going to kill her, that he's gonna come back tomorrow."

"She said that about your _father_?"

"I didn't believe her, but I _trust_ her. She's like a big sister to me. I know I can _always_ trust her. So I believed her and I cut her loose. Then we ran. Flagged down a cab and we went to her apartment. I wanted to know what was really happening and I wanted her to stay until I could figure it out, but she didn't want to stay here because she was afraid of my dad."

"Why?"

"She didn't want to talk." Travis turned suddenly in his seat when the engine of the car had long rumbled to a rest. "The next day, my dad came home distraught and I just knew that it was because of her. Because she wasn't there. He was angry. _Really_ angry _._ So when he went to work the next day, I went to Kacey's apartment—"

"Kacey. That's her name?"

Travis nodded. "She's already packed her stuff and we went to the train station. I sent her off."

"How did your dad take it?"

"I didn't tell him. I didn't talk to him at all about it. He cut back on drinking after a while and got a new assistant as if nothing happened. I'd like to think he forgot about Kacey completely, but I got a call from her a few weeks later, saying that my dad had tried to contact her by calling her old phone number a few times. She was scared."

"Do you think your dad still wants her…dead?"

"I don't know," Travis admitted quietly. "My dad isn't himself, that's all I know. I think he just wants somebody like mom in his life. I have no right to judge him, but he tried to kill Kacey because she didn't want to have…have…" The kid felt uncomfortable with the word he was about to say, but Alex watched with fascination as a flicker of anger ignited his next few words. "He tried to kill Kacey when she wouldn't have sex with him. And that's _not_ okay. That's just so _wrong_ in so many ways."

"But you didn't confront him about it."

"I don't know how he would react. He's not the dad I know anymore, but I can't judge him for wanting mom back. I want her back too. I should've seen his actions sooner…I guess he never did get over mom."

Alex hummed gently, sensing the afterthoughts still waiting to be said.

"He still loves me, and that's why I haven't told anyone, anyone but you. I don't want him behind bars because he's a good person. He just has dark secrets. Everyone has secrets. I can't bring myself to see him in a completely different light just because I know what he's hiding."

"You're a good person, Travis."

"Am I? What kind of person is afraid of their own father? What kind of person defends a _murderer_?"

"Your dad hasn't killed anyone to your knowledge yet," Alex shook his head, reaching over to settle a calming hand on Travis's shoulder like Fox had done so many times. "Your dad is _not_ a murderer until he's proven guilty."

"He would've _killed_ Kacey if I hadn't found her first. What if he's killed before?"

Alex thought of his own father. John Rider, father and family man. All a facade. Or was it? Was it John the spy cradling Alex when he was younger or was it John the father? Couldn't he be both?

"He's still your father and he still loves you. I think that's the most important thing you can ever hold onto."

"Why are you defending him?"

"I don't know. He loves you and that's the only thing I'd ever ask of someone. I suppose I want to believe that everybody's innately good." Alex laughed almost mirthlessly. "But why are _you_? Why are you defending him if you truly believe a murderer is all he is?"

"No, he's not _just_ a murderer. He's my dad." Short, simple as that. "And he's all I got."

* * *

After paying Jack, the man who had shot Alex, a quick visit, Fox, and André had been trying to track Kacey down. They needed her side of the story if they wanted any concrete evidence of what Cole had done—what he had tried to do to her like he had done to his late assistants. She had cleared out her apartment a few months back and took a train to a different city. There were no new addresses but there was, instead, credit card statements. They could narrow it down, perhaps, and wait for her to show up.

"Thank you for what you're doing," André muttered softly beneath his breath as the officers hauled him up and locked his wrists together again.

André had tried to kill the kids, and no matter how good his reasons were, he was still going to jail. André had already prepared himself for the inevitable and Fox could only hope that by finding Kacey and throwing the man responsible for the girls' murder, it would somehow soften the blows on André.

"People like him should never have been given so much power."

"Don't let him get away," said André, turning back from the door. "Please."

"I won't," he said sincerely. "I _promise_."

For the first time, the man smiled slightly. Then he was escorted out of Fox's vision and down the hallway. Fox watched him go. André deserved it for what he had tried to do, but then, he had only been trying to fight fire with fire.

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.

Fox drove back to Alex's house as soon as he packed up all the files Smithers had given him. Wolf had texted him that Cole was at the house, wanting to talk about what had happened in the headquarter regarding their discussion about the murder. The businessman probably wanted to give them baskets of excuses, Fox thought as his jaw clenched in frustration.

Alex's car wasn't in its usual parking spot was the first thing he noticed when he pulled up by the curb and got out. Strange. Did K-Unit take the kid for a quick drive? God helps him if Alex decided to take the car out himself for a spin. His leg wasn't completely healed, who knew what might happen.

He rung the doorbell and Eagle opened it for him. Cole and the rest were in the kitchen, judging by the sounds of the conversation slowly dying out.

"What did I miss?" muttered Fox as he took off his coat and hung it by the hooks. "And where's Alex?"

"Cub took Travis out for a quick drive, and you missed nothing but excuses."

"Alex took Travis out for a spin?" Fox frowned. "Why?"

"Cole didn't want them to hear what he had to say about the murders, I suppose." Eagle sounded slightly angered, and Fox didn't blame him. "He said all André wanted was to blame him for a murder he didn't commit. Did you find anything against Cole? Tell me you did."

"I talked to Jack and André," Fox nodded. "Their stories definitely connect. There was apparently a third—"

"Wolf and Snake probably want to hear more about that as well," Eagle cut him off softly as they eased their way into the kitchen. "We'll fill you in later after Cole's gone."

"Alright."

"Ah, Fox, was it?" The businessman said in greeting as the ex-spy walked in.

"Cole," he replied curtly with a quick smile in acknowledgment. "How's Travis?"

"Better. He went for air with your man. His name's Alex, isn't it? I owe him big time what he did."

"I'm sure he appreciates the sentiment."

"Well, I have a meeting scheduled in a couple of hours. I must get back to my office. Can you call your man and have him bring my son back here?"

"Definitely." Fox did the honor of ringing Alex.

The spy picked up after the third ring, a little longer than Fox preferred but at least he answered. "Fox?"

"Yeah. You should come back now. Mr. Cole needs to leave for his meeting soon."

"Okay. We're on our way. Should be there in…a few minutes."

"Good."

True to his words, Alex and Travis walked into the house minutes later. Fox didn't miss the quick squeeze on the shoulder Alex gave Travis, a look of understanding passed between the spy and the kid. What happened in the short time Fox was gone?

"You okay, Trav?" Cole asked with a smile as he saw his son. "Let's go. I'll drop you off at home."

"Sounds good."

The businessman gave each one of them one final glance, shook hands with Alex, and left. On his way out, Alex gave Travis his own nod, a sort of understanding passed between them. Fox would ask Alex about that later.

The front door closed, and then the grumbles began.

"Can't believe those crap Cole tried to sell us," Eagle said darkly. "Said he had no idea why his assistant died."

Alex frowned, a bit confused. Right, Fox hadn't exactly filled him in on what happened. "André, the man who tried to bury you, had a personal vendetta against Cole because Cole had sexually assaulted and killed his fiance a few months back."

If he had been looking for surprise and disgust in the spy's face, Fox was disappointed when Alex said, "Oh."

"You don't sound surprised." If anything, Alex sounded saddened. Strange, for normally Alex was more empathetic and sympathetic than the rest of them.

"I don't?"

Fox hesitated, frowning. "Do you know something we don't?"

"Don't think so," the spy shrugged. "Please continue."

"...Right." Fox and Wolf exchanged a concerned glance. "Well, um, Caroline, that's Andre's fiance's name. She's not the first assistant that died suspiciously while working for him. Almost a year ago, there was another one. Jack's sister."

"Who's Jack—Wait, the man who nearly killed Cub and Travis the first time 'round?"

"Yeah him."

"That bastard."

"Jack only wanted revenge," Fox understood Wolf's anger, but it was inevitable that he understood Jack's as well. "Jack's sister, Jess, was working for Cole at the time. Her death was ruled as a suicide, days after she told Jack that Cole sexually assaulted her and that she wanted to file a report against him."

"You're saying Cole killed her because he didn't want it getting out?"

Fox nodded, watching Alex's brows knitting in an apprehensive frown. "The same thing happened with Caroline as well. She was found dead in an abandoned shack above a section of the city's underground sewage system. Caroline told André about what Cole tried to do to her and she even told Cole that she was not going to let it slide."

"So he killed her as well."

"And there was absolutely no evidence pointing fingers at Cole?" asked Wolf.

"Nothing. He cleaned up after himself. Besides, Cole plays a big part in funding the police. Even if the cops weren't corrupted, they still had no reason to distrust a wealthy and _kind_ businessman like him."

"So we have nothing against him?"

Snake shook his head. "If we want him thrown in jail and never see the daylight ever again, we need solid evidence."

"There's a third victim," Fox said. "Kacey."

At this, none of them missed the startling turn of the head from Alex. All eyes fell onto the spy and Fox asked. "What's wrong? Do you know something about Kacey?"

"...No."

"Why are you lying?" A bit harsh, but Wolf conveyed the point across.

Alex's eyes flickered to Wolf in a snap and narrowed dangerously. "Don't start on me, Wolf."

"Did Travis say something to you?" Fox asked, prying the two away. "Alex, if he said anything important, we need to know. It'd help to put Cole behind bars, where he'd never hurt anybody else again."

"Well," Alex snapped. "If it's something you _need_ to know, I'll tell you."

Something was clearly bothering the spy very much. "You sound like you don't want Cole to be put behind bars."

Alex was silent for a long while, but K-Unit had long ago learned that the uneasy silence was the preamble to the truth they wanted to know. They just had to wait it out.

Then Alex finally relented with a sigh. "Have you ever consider what Cole is?"

"Besides a murderer?"

"He's a father, Fox. He's Travis's father."

Ah. So that's what was bothering Alex, Fox thought. "It hurts, I know. But this is what's right. This is justice and the system of laws doing their rightful job."

"What Travis needs is not _justice_. He's still young, what he needs is his father right next to him. Not in a cell, not dead, and certainly not branded as a murderer."

Fox understood him and he understood where it was coming from. He hardened his jaw nevertheless. "Is that you talking, or Travis?"

"What's the difference?"

"You feel a connection with Travis, don't you? You never got a chance with your own dad, and you didn't want Travis to go through the same thing. It sounds like you're imposing your own thoughts on the kid—"

"Oh _screw_ you, Ben." Alex abruptly stood up. His chair skidded back in a loud screech. " _Screw you_."

"Alex _sit_ back down or _I swear to God_ I'll do something I regret."

"Fox!" Snake exclaimed, displeased by the turn of event.

Alex remained standing, hands clenched in a fist.

"Don't test me, Alex," Fox said quietly, warning the young spy his imprudence.

Alex sat. Slowly.

All of a sudden, Fox regretted his tone. He did what needed to be done, not what should have been done. But the damage was dealt. Alex was tensed and looked like he was about to jump and run out of the house at moment's notice. Fox wouldn't be surprised if that was the first time Alex did after they finished their conversation or when Fox's hold on him receded—whichever came first.

"Everything you've done for Travis is more than admirable. You're trying to do what you think is the best for him, aren't you?"

Alex remained silent.

"You're right when you said Travis is still young. He still has a while till he grows up and until then, what he needs is a loving stable family, not a murderer as a father. We'll find him a better home, I promise you."

"I'm not gonna help you turn him into a foster child," said Alex.

"That's not what I'm saying."

 _Then what are you saying?_ Alex's eyes asked, but he held his tongue. "Cole loves his son. That's all that matters."

"That's not how the law works, Alex. Love isn't an excuse."

"Well," Alex said slowly, eyes calculating. "You need evidence, don't you, to prove that Cole's guilty. Count me out, because I'm not going to tell you anything."

"If you don't tell us what we need to know, anybody Cole kills in the future will potentially be your fault." Fox hated the way Alex flinched.

"Then so be it." Then Alex stood and walked out the door before Fox could stop him.

"Alex!"

Fox shook his head, pulling Wolf back from chasing the spy down. Let him be, he thought. Alex was hurting because he had gotten too close to Travis. Fox thought he knew how much Alex didn't want to be a spy, but apparently, he didn't. Alex didn't want anybody else to go through what he had gone through. He didn't want Travis to grow up like him, without a family and believing he was too broken to be fixed.

Fox understood, he really did, but everything he had said had been utterly wrong. It hadn't turned out the way Fox wanted. But truth be told, he didn't have a solution to the problem Alex presented.

Fox had been diving too deep into Cole's corruption that he had forgotten his good sides. Cole was a father, and heaven knew the world needed more of those that loved their child like Cole loved his son. But there was no way that he could let Cole get away with what he had done.

If only he knew why.

 _Everybody wants something._

What was it that Cole wanted out of killing his assistants? He didn't want his fling with them to taint his name. Cole had done it three times now. After the first, he should've known that he was doing it wrong. Yet he kept doing it as if the same procedure could bring different endings.

"What happened to Cole's wife?" Fox asked Eagle.

"She died 9 years ago. Car crash." The sharpshooter paused. "You think it has something to do with her?"

"Maybe," he muttered. "Maybe."

With Alex in the way, Fox was afraid to make his moves. He didn't want to hurt Alex. He hated it. But it was inevitable. Let the kid cool down, then Fox would try again. If Alex refused for a second time, Fox would go ask Travis.

Alex was right. Travis was still young. He was too easily influenced by things like love and attachments. That was what brought Alex down. Travis needed to learn that some things just…were not worth fighting for.

But Alex would _die_ to have his father back.

Fox looked away. He certainly hoped he was on the right side.


End file.
